A friend once told me how concerned she was that her kids adjusted well to their move from the city to the country. She and her husband had purchased a house with some land attached, and while they were enjoying the space and the quiet, they thought it equally important that their young children learn to embrace this new wilder, freer lifestyle.
So when my friend unexpectedly ran over a snake with her lawnmower one afternoon and ended up covered in guts, she was torn.
Would she set a good example of adventurousness and go-with-the-flow, girl-power gumption, or would she give in to her instincts and run screaming into the house?
When she burst through the door and saw her daughter's wide eyes on the verge of panic, my friend managed to keep her shit together. She continued brushing the reptile chunks off her shirt, while squeaking reassuringly, "It's just a bit of snake, honey, that's all. Just a little bit of snake."