Beware of Alligators

While my parents and grandparents may sheepishly deny it (probably because they feel some obligation to), if you ask my sister or my aunt, I was a brat when I was little.  Capital B. Capital R. Capital A. Capital T.  BRAT.  There's the story of when I told my sister to close her eyes while we danced on the trampoline and then danced her right off of it.  Whenever we had to share a room, I would tell her that she was breathing too loudly.  There's the story of when I tripped over my aunt's foot and got mad at her because her foot was in my way.  I know I bit and scratched them until they cried and manipulated them until they cried some more.  Chalk it up to sibling rivalry and growing pains, I guess.  [In the years since, I have changed my ways, and, as far as I know, they no longer hold this opinion of me...or at least I hope.]
Then there's the story that even my parents love to recount as further evidence of my strong will, if not downright stubbornness.  I was probably nine years old or so, and we were on a family vacation at the beach.  As a break from playing in the sand, we took a day excursion to a local bird sanctuary to take a hike.  Sounds lovely to me now.  I think I was probably on board then, at least begrudgingly.  That was until I saw the signs posted all over the place:  "Beware of Alligators".  I'm not sure exactly what I thought was waiting for us on our hike through the bird sanctuary (maybe an alligator version of Jurassic Park?), but I do know that there was no way that I was going on a hike where there may be alligators lurking.  I know I protested vehemently.  I probably cried too.  Incidentally, I was the only person with any qualms.  My siblings were all on board with no concerns whatsoever.  I think my parents tried to talk some sense to me: "Alicia, the alligators are more afraid of us than we are of them..."  "No one has ever been attacked by an alligator at this bird sanctuary..."  It had no effect on me.  "Why would they post a sign such as this if there was no reason for it?", said the perfectly sound logic in my head.  No reasoning or bribing could budge me from my resolve.  The end result?  The rest of the family went on what I am sure was a peaceful walk through the woods (especially considering my absence) while I sulked in the hot van for over an hour.  Incidentally, when they returned, no one was even missing any appendages from alligator bites.  Imagine that.
As they say, what goes around, comes around.  The apple doesn't fall far from the tree in Wren.  If it's not her idea, she wants no part.  Even worse, if it's not in conformity with her idea, she will dig her heels in until she gets her way.  If she has the least bit of fear over something, it's not happening.
On a recent bike riding trip, Tony made the mistake of putting the Hello Kitty bike instead of the Barbie bike into the van.  It was a better size for her, but because it was not the one she wanted, she would not ride it.  While the other two were off riding their bikes, she trudged behind awkwardly pushing the bike in a zig-zag pattern along the path, refusing to even attempt riding the unwanted bike.  We tried positive encouragement.  We tried bribery.  She and I even argued a bit (when I refused to push her bike that she refused to ride and when I even had the audacity to suggest leaving it on the side of the path for us to pick up later).  She argued, complained and cried because the new bike was too scary, but she did not ride the bike.  In the end, the fun family outing was cut short because who wants to hear that nonsense on a bike trip?  Heaven help us.  My chickens have come home to roost.  [In an ironic twist, it was Judson who was worried about the alligators that may or may not reside in the pond by the bike path.]
On the bright side, if she is truly as much like me as she seems, I know that she will eventually come around and not be so stubborn or fearful if we keep exposing her to new experiences and stand our ground when we lock horns.  In the end, I know that this is the stuff of personal grit that, when properly groomed and harnessed, will make for a strong and capable woman.  For that I am thankful.

Ms. Pouty Face pushing her bike.

Tony riding the Hello Kitty bike back to the van.