Werewolves in the schoolyard

leavesIt’s funny that when I wrote that little play yesterday, the idea that the kid was seemingly alone in the playground was only sort of a sub-theme. LGOBWPH really seemed perfectly okay. She was jubilantly riding her bike around in the schoolyard and I think her people were around the other side of the school where I couldn’t see. In all likelihood, she goes to school there and lives in the neighborhood and I’m guessing she was about seven years old, so I’m sure she knows her way around.

It was only an undercurrent to my little play that I found myself automatically assessing whether or not this kid was being supervised or not or whether her folks were wondering where she was. I was wondering whether anyone had ever told her not to talk to strangers! Because when I was a kid, I was definitely told NOT to talk to strangers. There was a problem there. I wasn’t totally sure what a stranger was. I mean, I knew that a stranger was someone I’d never seen before. But what if that person was a kid my age. And that kid’s mother. What about her? There was other muddiness surrounding the definition of stranger that I won’t go into. But. As an adult, I have always tried to be careful about talking to kids when I meet them alone.

And then The Commander (Fran in the comments) made me think I should slow down a bit. So, today, a young barefooted boy (YES barefooted, here on the over-educated Planet Ann Arbor) accosted me in the woods. He asked me what I was looking for. Hmm. Nothing, really, except for photo ops of plants and and things that he wouldn’t have appreciated (?). I stepped up to the plate and asked *him* what *he* was looking for! *Rabbits* was the answer! Had I seen any? No. But there are rabbits aplenty around here. And so I let my guard down and told him about Henry et al.

I guess I don’t look very scary. I probably look like somebody’s gramma, albeit prob’ly the more kayaking-type gramma than the cookie-making type although I *can* make cookies (I’ve made ’em for spec reviews at work). Maybe that is why little kids aren’t afraid to talk to me when they encounter me in the woods *alone*. Anyway. Sigh. This week will be busy. Love y’all.

One Response to “Werewolves in the schoolyard”

  1. Margaret Says:

    So, are you a granola looking grandma type? Those kind are usually safe for kids to talk to. *snicker*