Cherry and I were arguing last week about the news. She wanted to watch. I said no.
When I was ten no one stopped me from watching. Every night, I waited for Huntley or Brinkley or Cronkite to announce the death toll for the day. My brothers served back to back tours in Vietnam. I knew more about the geography of south east Asia than the average ten year old. I also had an adult case of worries.
So, I’ve sheltered my kids from the news. Especially the local report full of child molesters and drive-by shootings. Which leads back to the argument with my ten year old.
“Why can’t I watch?”
“Because I don’t want you to worry.”
“Why would I worry?”
“I don’t want you to think about every murderer and molester on the news. You’re ten.”
“Isn’t it better to know about those people and be prepared than to pretend they don’t exist?”
I’ve made the argument hundreds of times. Here, my baby makes it back to me. She’s right, of course. Its better to be prepared for the evil in the world. Reluctantly, I let her watch.