Wild Child

We have a tornado in our family.  She is so full of energy none of us can keep up with her.  In her 6 short years I don't think she has sat down at the table and stayed there for an entire meal. I can't bear to watch her ride her scooter like a complete maniac around the neighborhood. Every elbow and knee has a huge scab, worn like badges of honor. If she were in school outside our home, we are convinced teachers would encourage medication to slow her down.  To top off her hyperactivity, she is also fiercely opinionated and very volatile.

The other day we were driving behind a show-off on a motorcycle.  He was speeding and weaving dangerously, in and out of traffic.  Every few hundred yards he would pop a wheelie which evidently impressed our little tornado.  She kept telling us how cool the guy on the motorcycle was.  This concerns me.  Is she going to be the one who shows up at a family function with tattoos, piercings and leather?

A couple of years ago, while watching our tornado dance her self-choreographed dance to "Ring of Fire" sung by Johnny Cash, our children's choir director called it like it is: "She is your wild child.  Every family has one."