She's The Garden Police

The School Social Worker asked me about the garden's rules.  "So, only 6 kids in at a time?  Or is it 8?  And only certain ones can use the tools?  And what's the story with the badges?"

We laughed, I at my obliviousness, she with delight as she recounted the story. 

Apparently, one of Grandma's Garden Leaders is now in charge when I'm not there.  Apparently, she has a lot of rules.  Apparently, she is quite intent on enforcing them, and apparently the rest of the Prince Scholars are willing to let her do so. 

She's the one who organized the digging that provided the bathtub sized hole for our Dwarf Mandarin Orange tree.  I worried about it; when I arrived on planting day I found that she had created a solution.  She consulted with experts (her father) when the going got tough.  She recruited volunteers, trained them, guided them, and got all the tools cleaned up and back in the storage bench. 

There's no reason to punish any of that behavior.  She's not bossy; she's in charge.  The fact that no one asked her to be in charge was bumping up against all the good that she'd accomplished.  The playground monitors didn't care what the rules were, they just wondered if the 10 year old was the only one making them. 

There was and will be some clarification of who can enter the gates and what they can do once they are in there.  I need to develop a system to identify those who can handle the rakes and the shovels and those who had better stick to the watering cans.  Everyone wants to taste the scallions sprouting from our onion sets; we'll have to separate those who can pick and share and those who haven't yet learned the technique.

I think the 10 year old had a point; there's got to be a story about badges lurking here.