The Third Girl has a new cause to fight for, one that rouses her passions and fires her temper ..... or at least the ten-year-old's version which is mostly stamping her foot and sticking her lip out. She is fighting for freedom which is, I'm sure you'll agree, an excellent cause and one that usually I wholeheartedly approve of...
... Except The Third Girl wants her own freedom. So this time, I'm not that keen on it to be honest.
Ten years old and she wants to fly the nest. Not forever and only as far as the local shop to begin with though the local shop is about 750 yards away across one of the city's busiest intersections. She would have to cross eight roads and only four of them have pelican crossings.
Her friend goes to the local shop so The Third Girl wants to exercise what is clearly her God given right to go to the shop too. Doesn't matter that her friend lives 500 yards closer to the shop or she only has to cross one quiet suburban street: "SHE goes to the shop ON HER OWN so WHY can't I?" *Foot stamp.*
And, clearly there is no reason why The Third Girl can't actually go to the shop. She has two legs, two eyes and has had a thorough and relentless grounding in road safety ("WAIT FOR THE GREEN MAN, WAIT"). She has crossed all the roads, accompanied, times beyond measure.
But ALL that way ON HER OWN when she's TEN. *Wrings hands with worry*
And I do worry. I worry she might get lost. That she might not get to the shop. That she might get lost in the shop. That she might be unaccountably distracted by something shiny. That she might not find her own way back. That she might never come back. I worry about who she might meet and who might talk to her, even if she won't talk to them after hearing the Do Not Talk To Strangers mantra since, well, forever.
Which, while I think about it, might make it awkward in the shop anyway.
She's going to continue being ten until late August and, thanks to the education system, in September she'll be walking the mile or so to the local Academy at 7.30 in the morning five times a week crossing a ridiculously un-pelican-ed, busy main road on the way (DESPITE the complaints *scowls at Wakefield Council in passing.*) AND she won't let me walk with her .... I've been there and done that and five years later, still bear the scars of ridicule with the mocking laughter of the TeenTwins ec-ec-ec-hoing in my ears.
We are going to have to let her out into the world on her own. Soon. Just to try it out. Not for long. Just for a bit. And venturing to the local shop will do for a start. Though I might draw a map and Daddy might follow her the first couple of times or so. Just to see she's alright. And I'll only be stood in the kitchen doorway with the police on speed dial and looking anxious because, well, because I will.
We'll just wait until the weather gets a bit better, shall we?
This post features in Follow a Newbie Friday
Thanks to Slummy to Yummy Mummy