If I take the trash out the back door, she slips through the front door like water through a basket full of holes. We put hooks high up on the doors so she couldn’t escape, so know she waits for somebody to go through a door with a load of groceries and she runs out at top speed. It gets worse, only a few moments ago, her sister left to go to a friend’s house and I convinced my young daughter to go down to the basement with me to fill jugs of water for the fish tank. Oh yes, she went all right. She smiled innocently and helped me fill the jugs right up until the last one. Just as I was finishing, she started stomping up the stairs and naturally I asked her what she thought she was doing. She didn’t answer and that was my first clue that she was up to something. In the time it took me to turn the water off, set the jug down and run up the stairs, she was already on the sidewalk and running flat out down the block. In bare feet I ran across white rock trying to catch her. I screamed for her to stop and she didn’t slow a bit. It was the fear that she would reach the curb and run headlong into the street that propelled me to run faster than I ever have before. I was so shaken by the time I caught her I could only drag her back home and sit her on the couch, warning her not to move a muscle. Quite frankly I’m ready to put her in shackles if it means keeping her safe.
She’s so incredibly fast, that’s the big problem. She seems to cover ground while hardly moving at all. I know, you’re wondering how a three and a half foot tall kid with tiny little legs can get away that fast and believe me, you’re not the first to wonder that. Most people can’t believe how incredibly fast she is until they spend an afternoon with her, and trust me, it’s a bitter lesson indeed. We just can’t seem to make her understand that she needs to stay with us and that it’s dangerous to be outside alone or try to cross the street without a grown-up. She’s so completely unafraid of anything, besides flies, that she can’t conceive of danger. Her strong will and fierce independence really serve to undermine her safety. Twice now, we have left a store and she bolted through the door despite warnings not to. She cleverly waits until you’re paying for your items and don’t have a free hand to stop her, and by the time I shove my change in my purse and run for the door, she’s already in the parking lot.
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