It Takes A Village

Day 167

I hear them before I see them. Laughter travels faster in sunny weather.

 

A preschooler on a ride-on scooter is barreling towards the road.  Legs straight up and a smile that splits his face, he’s going for broke.  Nothing’s going to stop him!  

Except me. 

To my left I see an oncoming car equally as oblivious to the oncoming child as the boy is to the speeding car.  I run across the street and block the cul-de-sac entrance.  I jump back and forth to slow the boy who giggles at my crazy dance, drops his legs and stops.  On his feet again, he grabs the scooter’s handles and drags it back up the street.

Would the boy have stopped on his own?  Maybe.  I wasn’t willing to take that chance.  Like all mothers, I possess a unique ability to see disaster in every situation.  (I know.  It’s a gift.) 

Wet floor: You could slip and BREAK your neck!  Forgotten hat:  Put that on or you’ll get pneumonia!  Every crosswalk: STOP and look both ways, TWICE, or you’ll get run over by a car! 

I know what you’re thinking.  Wow!  She sounds fun!  I want her at my next party! 

I see the words hang in imaginary conversation bubbles above my head and wonder when did I become so crazy.  When did I start to see catastrophe where reckless fun once prevailed?     

Yes, it takes a village to raise a child.  What can I say?  Every village also has its idiot.