When my daughter Sophie was six years old, she confessed to me that she trusted me the second most in the whole world. I was both flattered and, I admit, a little confused. Who did she trust more than me? Her dad? Her grandma? Her twin brother Jake?
And when I asked her, “Who do you trust the most?” she looked at me as if that were a ridiculous question. “Myself, of course!” she declared.
I was impressed. Why? Partially because of her preternatural self-awareness, and partially because many of the adults I know wouldn’t be able to say that they trusted themselves the most in the whole world.
