Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Princess of Power

Out here in rural land, kids just don't get quite the supervision they do in the city. The fact that it is generally safe for them to be out of parental view is usally a wonderful thing--space to breathe and roam and explore and all that.

But sometimes, I wonder.

My dear daughter loves to play in what she has always referred to as "Fairy Land," a bright green patch of tender grass that seems to be growing indiscriminately beneath a stand of scrawny pine saplings. It is up on the far side of the gully, a goodly walk from the house and not at all visible from where a parent would typically be. It is on our property in a basically safe area and I am generally ok with her playing there.

She took her little friend, Eden, there this week, and after playing a bit, the two girls decided it needed a decorator's touch. Fortunately, both of them happen to be decorators. They picked some lovely purple flowers--lupine, if you're up on your wildflowers--and decided to attach them to the aforementioned saplings.

The girls came to find us moms when they were finished, eager to show off their beautiful decor, and we dutifully hiked up the back hill, down the gully and back up the other side to their happiest place on earth. We oohed and aahed appropriately at the lovely flowers adorning the trees, but I didn't quite grasp what I was looking at until I noticed the bright yellow DeWalt cordless drill sitting on the grass next to the girls.

I asked with genuine curiosity and a fair amount of alarm why Daddy's drill was all the way up at Fairy Land, and they proudly told us of their creative ingenuity.

Here is where I really think a little supervision could have been in order:

Thinking through all the possible ways to attach flowers to trees, Elliana had decided a drill would be the most efficient. She had found it in the construction zone and lugged it all the way back up to the Fairy Land. With Eden standing by with fistfulls of lupine, Elli proceeded to drill a hole through the trunk of each little tree, and as she drilled her way around the perimeter of the Fairy Land, her trusty assistant placed a flower stem through each hole. They were so proud of their work.

Bear in mind, my daughter has only recently turned eight years old, and her sidekick is five.

I swallowed hard and bit the inside of my cheek until I could calmly admonish my daughter to, next time, ask Daddy before using any power tools.

I had to admit, though, she had done a heck of a job.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Mothers worry too much! What's a cordless drill going to do? Now if it was the skill saw, that would be a different story!

Uncle Ed

Jeannie said...

I'm certainly relieved that the decision wasn't made to adorn each other with lovely purple flowers.