A case for wheels...

Nearing the end of our drive home from Nashville, and I mean ten minutes from home, I started a spontaneous “stranger danger” quiz/life lesson with the kids. Mainly Meredith, because she’s never met a stranger and that scares me. Alex and I have had this talk for several years, he gets the same lecture at school, and he sometimes has to be coaxed to speak to people he’s known for years.

The entire conversation was started by me making a comment about the “kidnapper van” that cut us off on the on ramp. Sara B. always called near-windowless utility vans, “kidnapper vans.” Seems befitting to me.

We talked about what to do if we get separated and/or lost in a store. We talked about the different ways people might try to lure children away. We discussed the fact that a stranger would never pick them up from school, soccer, ballet, gymnastics, etc. regardless of how sick or injured they might tell them I am. We practiced reciting Brandon’s and my name, what city we live in, and sang our phone number to the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

Alex steered the conversation toward what to do if someone did manage to snatch Meredith. We talked about what specifically and how loud to scream. We talked about fighting back. My suggestion was to twist down an attacker’s leg, like I saw on “The Facts of Life” in ’84. Alex’s suggestion was the testosterone-fueled, “KICK THEM IN THE PRIVATES!!!”

Lovely. However, I can’t argue with the effectiveness of the move.

About this time, I saw a light bulb turn on over Alex’s head.

“Mom, I should really have Heelies. I could get away from a kidnapper much, much faster if I had wheels.”

Alex has asked for Heelies 417 times since last fall and 417 times I’ve told him ‘no.’ Meredith is in on the act now, because the orthopedic surgeon told her Heelies ranked right up there with trampolines and monkey bars when it come to broken bones.

I can’t blame the kid for making an effective argument, but it didn’t change my mind.

Oh and to vouch for the effectiveness of my lecture: Literally the next morning as we were loading our swimming gear into the car, the meter reader pulled into our driveway. He waved "hello," I turned to grab our goggle bag out of the doorway and heard Meredith start a full conversation with a complete stranger.