It’s kind of a shame that our seven-year-old can read so well. When I’m at the computer reading some sordid article or having a private conversation through I.M. on gmail, I have to be sure she isn’t anywhere in eyeshot if I don’t want the inquisitive little bugger to read something inappropriate, scary, or just none of her beeswax.
I never thought I’d have to be concerned about her reading junk mail. When my husband came home and plunked the mail on the counter, G. meandered over and soon started crying. More specifically, she was weeping. She wasn’t sobbing and shaking uncontrollably, she just couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face. Why? Because:
The fact that the Gecko missed us was more than her poor, gentle heart could handle. First my husband tried comforting her. Then I had to take over. For several minutes, the poor kid was disconsolate for the plight of a fictional green lizard. We explained that he wasn’t real, he couldn’t talk, he doesn’t even know us, for heaven’s sake! No help. “It’s just an ad, a gimmick to try to get our money.” Nope, that poor gecko with the lone tear cascading from his eye….
Luckily for us, it was someone’s birthday. “Let’s watch your sister open her presents!” I suggested.
So long lonely lizard! You just got trumped by pink Tinkerbell wrapping paper.
It’s just a good thing this kid is too young to choose insurance companies. She’s too easy of a target. Better luck next time, gecko!