After church today, my neighbor was telling me we should be proud of Henry. Dean had taken Henry and the other kids over to the church to play while Dean played volleyball a couple weeks ago, and Henry had needed to use the bathroom, but the church was locked, so Henry walked home to use the bathroom. My neighbor’s husband was worried Henry might get hit by a car, so he’d offered Henry a ride. “But Henry wouldn’t get in the car!” my neighbor concluded, “so you should be proud of him for remembering your rules.” Instead, her husband had followed slowly behind Henry to be sure he made it home safely.
At lunch I reiterated our rules to all the kids: “You can only accept rides from family members, or from the moms of your friends if I know them. If it’s someone’s dad or someone you don’t know, you have to ask for our family’s password before you can get in the car. So that’s really good that Henry remembered, and didn’t get in Brother W.’s car.”
“Yeah,” said Henry. “I didn’t want to get in his car because he had a dog in the car, and I didn’t want the dog to get me slobbery.”