Winter is fully here.
Whenever I’m outside with my daughter, watching her play, looking around, I am anticipating her sticking her tongue to a metal pole.
I did it when I was her age. I don’t know why. I’m assuming because someone had told me not to. That’s how I roll.
It was a chain-link fence. I remember being stuck, and I remember being handed a cup of water to sip while they called my mother. I don’t remember actually being pulled off.
My kid is exactly the kind of kid that will stick her tongue to metal, especially if someone tells her not to.
She’ll either be the kid that sticks her tongue to freezing cold metal or she’ll be the kid who talks someone else into doing it.
Every time she gets close to something metal I flinch.