While cooking with my two- and three-year-old daughters the other day, one of them requested to hold the huge chef’s-knife-of-DOOM. (E is a cutlery snob and we registered for and received a very nice set of knives for our wedding.) (He wishes me to include here that he is, after all, the Paternal Ninja, and it is therefore inherently necessary that he be a cutlery snob.) I refused, of course, reminding her that only mommies and daddies use knives, because a knife can hurt you. Her plaintive response: “But… please?”
I looked at the sweet, pleading expression on her precious little face. I love my daughter. I love making her happy. But I also love her little hands and all five fingers on each one. I know she is not coordinated enough or mature enough to responsibly handle the knife, and I know she could seriously hurt herself if allowed to have it. She’s not ready for that challenge or that responsibility, so no amount of pleading or buttering-up will change my decision.
But she’s also not old enough to understand this thought process, nor would she likely respect it. She is only three and feels the weight of her desires more keenly than the weight of wisdom. So for now I must teach her to trust my decisions and obey me without necessarily understanding why.
How often God requires the same of us.
Posted on March 3rd, 2007 by Dove
Filed under: Kids, Learning
Leave a Reply