She doesn't worry about anyone having a nefarious plan for her.
She's blissfully confident that when she is in need, somebody nice will step up and help her.
And while that's good. (I want her to feel safe in her world.) It's a little worrisome.
I was talking to her the other day about what her options could be if I forget to pick her up from gymnastics class or am delayed enough that she thinks I'm not coming for her.
"Now, I will always do by best to get here before you have to worry," I told her. "But you've seen the traffic and it might be that one day I'll be late. You need to have a plan."
This beautiful little blond-haired, blue-eyed child thought it over.
"I could walk home!" she suddenly declared. "I know which way to go!"
She pointed out the window to the road. "I go on that road and then go that way!"
"It's kind of a long walk," I told her. (She lives in upper Lehi near the Bull River Road and gymnastics class is in south Lehi.)
"I could do it," she insisted. "I'm strong."
I told her it was farther than she thinks because the distance is shorter in a car than when a kid is walking.
I also pointed out that she would have to go on the freeway where there are a lot of fast cars which make it very dangerous for a kid to walk there.
Again, she thought it over.
"I know!" she suddenly blurted out. "I could ask somebody nice to give me a ride!"
I looked at her, this precious small person who had no idea what kind of chance she would be taking.
I told her mother about Mia's plan.
She gulped.
"Guess it's time to have the stranger-danger talk, huh!" she said.
Yes.
And that's too bad.
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