I used to smoke 2.5 packs of cigarettes a day until my grandson, Hunter, tearfully begged me to stop smoking when he was between 6 and 7 years old. I made him a pinky promise right then and there that I was quitting, and threw out the open pack I had. I kept a still-sealed pack for “just in case.” But as we know, you don’t make sacred pinky promises to a child only to break that promise.
He checked on me every time he came over after that, keeping tabs on me. I was accountable to my grandson (he deserves an award). He is now 14, and I haven’t smoked a cigarette since the day I quit for him. Safe to say, I quit for my grandson, but the main outcome was way better health for me. So I’m thankful for that little boy who asked me for that pinky promise.