Lillian likes to point to things using her middle finger. I'm not sure exactly where this comes from. Maybe her parents' penchant for vulgarity has passed itself down in some fashion, and before truly harnessing it, most likely in adolescence, she is unconsciously doing so now.
Everything get the treatment.
"Look at the bunny."
"Mom, a cicada shell."
"Ooh, that's a big plane."
Middle finger. Middle finger. Middle finger.
It's going to be a really sad day when she twirls it appropriately up and directs it at me.
If you have young kids, do you ever wonder what in the hell they're going to try to get away with? I mean, my parents kept a tight leash, and I STILL managed to do some damage. I'd write about some of it here, but I worry about my future employment. And I suppose my parents could STILL ground me, although it would be awkward explaining that to my kids.
Okay, I can give you ONE example only. And it involves the theft of construction paraphernalia. Namely, orange cones. A few co-conspirators and I set out to do this one night. And we did it. And I am duly ashamed. Sort of.
I am keeping a running list of things I hope my kids never do. This list involves syringes, getting in the car with drunk people, bypassing latex, and passing out drunk against a tree in college and having a female lacrosse player carry them home. Or to a friend's apartment, which is what happened to me one night. She was very strong. Okay, that was seriously it with the personal examples.
The list also involves squatting in vacant houses, joining a fight club, hanging out in the bathrooms of bars, and creating bonfires on a school's soccer field. That last one may or may not have involved me. I'll keep you guessing.
Have you ever seen that show 16 & Pregnant? For once, MTV has done something right, and shows the general realities of allowing your punk boyfriend to use the line 'but it feels better without the condom.' Watching that show made me want to scoop up all the adolescent girls and carry them somewhere to have a talk.
I mean, imagine. You're changing diapers at 15, and your boyfriend didn't even know what he was doing in bed. Lose, lose, if you ask me.
Not that a talk would make a difference. Because I'm thinking back to my late teens right now, and cringing heartily. Sigh.
So, what's the answer? I pay attention to my girls and love them and make them understand their value and worth. We set limits and keep them. My husband does the same. And we cross our fingers?
What I do know is this: if the worst thing that happens is a middle finger directed at me? Not so bad. Not so bad at all.