Never underestimate someone's desire to be free.
My father thought he was doing me a favor when he bought me the wooden horse. Front and center in the catalog, I had circled it with a big red marker.
That was before I saw what the neighbor's kid got for Christmas. A giant toy car he could power with his legs. I watched him zoom up and down the street as I rocked back and forth on my horse, staring out the window.
Even now, getting the car keys from my father requires an interrogation.
Every night, before I lay my head down—I round up all of my cat's toys and put them in their drawer. I tie up the ball that hangs from the ceiling. What? I gotta get some sleep.
It still doesn't stop her from finding something to knock over in the middle of the night.