We’ve developed a bit of a problem over at the Hicks Ranch. I just discovered my 3-year-old is the Incredible Hulk.

The Hulk, who we’ll call Lucy, because that’s her name, has two sisters, who, at ages 9 and 10 are starting to explore the world a bit more. Santa bought them new bikes for Christmas, which suddenly gives them a much faster means of transport to go longer distances. They have friends their age in our complex. They like to go as far away from home as their parents will let them (about 300 yards, give or take) and build secret forts, where they form paramilitary organizations that plot to take over vast expanses of territory belonging to other kids they see as rivals.

They plan for the day when we will let them ride to a store or a park, during which time they will bring their new set of walkie-talkies to communicate (not happening anytime soon, but we let them dream). In short, they’re growing up and flexing a bit of newfound power.

Meanwhile, their little sister, Lucy, has been left behind. And she’s not happy about it.

She also got a new bike for Christmas, but can’t ride fast enough to keep up.  She hasn’t figured out how to use the walkie-talkie. When the girls go to their friends’ houses to play video games and talk about pre-teen things, she isn’t invited. This confuses her, since she’s always been part of what her sisters do, whether she understood what was going on or not. She just likes to sit with them, smile and pretend she knows what they’re talking about.

As the father of the most adorable and smartest 3-year-old on the planet, I’m legally bound to take her side. At least I was for a while. I’d try to convince the older girls to take her along, but then get steamed when they would bring her back 10 minutes later. The older girls would be frustrated. Lucy would be upset. I’d be crying hysterically – just not a good scene.

Unfortunately, I have to let them go without her, while making sure they do enough to not completely alienate her. It’s a balancing act.

For example, the other day, they took off using stealth tactics. Lucy tried to follow. I bolted the door and tried to distract her. She unlocked the door. I chained it. She tore the chain – and part of the doorframe – right out of the wall.

I didn’t see that coming. She hadn’t even turned green.  

There are other kids in our complex who are her age, but she hasn’t shown much interest  – unless, of course, her sisters are around. At 9 and 10, the older girls are about to start the fast slide to teendom that happens before a guy even realizes his kids no longer want to be seen in public with him. If I think I’ll feel lost – and I no doubt will – I worry that the smallest of them will feel just as left behind.

The good news is that the older girls will soon be babysitting age. I will be able to make them stay home and “bond” with Lucy, while I get to know my wife again. Apparently, not all is lost.

Tony Hicks is a columnist with Bay Area News Group.