by Linda Schmitt, Corvallis
“You’re not the boss of me.”
That’s what I would say when I was six, defying my brother when he was trying to keep me safe. My little hands on my hips, declaring my independence. Sigh. I wish I could thank him now, for keeping me safe.
It’s not different now when I hear, “They can’t tell me what to do,” people talking about the vaccine. It’s like an invasion of six year olds. Great. Now we are six. Big kids. Sigh.