One of the shows the husband and I indulge in is Modern Family. It took till the start of the second season before we watched an episode and we've been hooked ever since. The Season Finale had the youngest family member, Lily on a backpack leash at DisneyLand. Her parents are overwhelmed because she has the tendency to run off and one of her fathers thinks a leash is the safest bet. In the end they find another equally laughable solution, but I'm going to focus on the leash here.
The whole "to leash" or "not to leash" debate is an ongoing argument between Moms, one Dads and Grandparents often engage in. I've had friends relay times when their parents begged them to never put their grandchildren on a leash. We've all looked a little sideways and passed judgement at the mom doing a good job of ignoring her leashed kid, and thought that if she paid more attention she wouldn't need that leash. On the other hand I know I've also judged the mom with the litter of kids she's allowing to run wild, and felt sorry for the mom who is clearly outmanned and knows it. That mom needs a leash, or a really strong super stroller.
But I digress, I'm writing to tell a story, one I've heard told to me affectionately over the years by my Grandparents. It's the story of how I earned the nickname Soap on a Rope. How it's affected me and made me who I am.
When I was a couple of years old my Grandparents took me on a camping trip with my sister and some of their friends. Think Glamping, glamourous camping, like four poster beds in tents and other wasteful things, but minus the four poster bed and tent. Stupid analogy, we had a fancy trailer, and lounge type camping chairs out front. I'm sure there was some green grass like rug to "define the camp site".
On one of the days a Ranger showed up with a little girl that they did not recognize and asked if she belonged to them. Later we found out she was from a campsite over and her parents were too drunk to notice she had wandered off. But ignore the drunk/drinking part, from the way my Grandparents tell this story she would have wandered off had they been sober. Anyway they tell the Ranger, No, and point to me informing him "that One's ours". The Ranger compliments them on how they're watching me, tells them how often kids disappear out there and is on his way.
As for me, I'm tied to a tree on a long "lead line"... yep I was on a lead line. Or a rope strung from a tree and the trailer, kind of like the one I set up or my Mother in Laws dog last time we went camping. Not just any one would do me though, this one my Grandparents proudly declare had enough slack to allow me to wander the campsite and go inside the trailer. Hence, Soap on a Rope. Shameful. Apparently this was the same trip my big sister took it upon herself to lead me around a tree till I couldn't go any further. She swears to this day I had fun following her, till I realized I couldn't go any further and started screaming.
My point? That story is hilarious. Seriously, I was tied to a tree with a lead line. This was no watered down cute fuzzy backpack leash or a little wrist leash, nope, they probably bought the supplies at a local pet store. They even realized how ridiculous it was and gave me an equally ridiculous nickname to commemorate the experience. But they did it, I survived to tell about it mostly trauma free (sister torture excluded) and it's just another reason why I have a good sense of humor. Will I do the same to baby El? Probably not, but I might tell her I did at some point. It's a great way to keep your kid humble, tell them at one point in their life you tethered them to a tree. But because you love them and are humane, gave them enough slack to be able to get shelter. You can't buy that kind of humble pie from any sort of Maury style bad teen boot camp.
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