I knew there was dirt and garbage on the street, but until I started taking Saphira out of her stroller to toddle on the ends of my fingers, I didn't quite realize how many "no touch" items there were out there . . . . beer bottles, bottle caps, cigarette butts, hypodermic needles . . . . . .
I finally let her tounch a dead and crusty leaf just to have an item that could be explored.
Secondly, after a week of visiting the playground out of the stroller, it is slightly disconcerting that the only adult name I have to show for the encounters with children is that of a probable predator. I'm assuming predator because not only was it an old man without children on the playground, but 1) he approached us 2) he asked us if he could buy us something 3) he gave us his name and asked mine (this has NEVER happened in any conversation with other adults on the playground - strictly kid talk, even obvious things, like my accent, have not been asked about - let alone a name) 4) he said that when we meet again we need to have drinks. Of course,if i'd missed any of those neon signs, there was also the older woman walking by who was also telling me to ignore him, at which point I was already bundling Saphira into the stroller and trying to extract myself.
Maybe its the fact that I grew up in a small, clean, country town with a farm to play on where the most dangerous items were piles of junk and rusty nails (ok - I suppose as a parent these are disturbing too - but I'd rather have a rusty nail over a syringe).
It all just makes you think of what is safe, and where you do let your kids play. S obviously can't play alone yet - but when she can - do I let her go in sand piles and boxes? What could be buried there? It makes me very glad that we've invested in the mud hut and that at least once in awhile we can go out and play in the fresh air and the grass and have nothing more to worry about than bee stings and splinters.
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