Holy guacamole! So, today I went to pick up Jude from the bus stop as I do everyday around 3:30. As I was driving to the bus stop, I saw a young American looking boy about 2-3 years old standing on the street all alone. I slowed my car to see where his adult might be, but the street was empty. Immediately, I wanted to stop, but there were several cars behind me and no safe place for me to park. So, I drove on to the next block and parked my car. By the grace of God, there were 5 police officers standing at the corner about to give tickets to people who had illegally parked. I yelled at them that there was a small child alone near the street and took off running like a bat out of hell. Unfortunately, I was ill prepared for the 300 yard sprint to the child. I was wearing Crocks, without socks, a sweater, slacks and a wool coat. But somehow, I was still able to run slightly faster than the police officers. My adrenaline was pumping as the anger inside of me started to build. Who would let their precious baby out in the street unaccompanied I thought to myself as I ran as fast as I could in my Crocks. I was hoping the irresponsible parent would be there when I reached the child, so I could yell at them publicly, and I would have the police officers there to control the situation just in case I went ninja on them. I was worried the 31 years of pent up hostility would come flying out of me and onto the unlucky, irresponsible care givers. Luckily, by the time I reached the child, another passerby had stopped traffic and was holding the young boy. The police officers thanked me for letting them know about the situation, and then I ran to the bus stop to get my own son. I was fearful that my son would now be unattended at the bus stop. Thankfully, the bus attendant kept Jude on the bus until I arrived sweaty and thankful to see his glittering, brown eyes, and light brown hair.
As I walked to my car, a police officer stopped me and asked me for my personal information in case they needed me for an investigation. I gave him the information he needed and asked a few questions about the situation. It turns out that the young boy had walked several blocks to the main street. His mother was in the restroom and his older siblings were supposed to be watching him. I told the police officer that I hoped the parents get in trouble for their irresponsible behavior. Then, I drove off thankful for the sweet, humorous, little boy sitting in my back seat. I was so happy to have MY son in MY car under MY protection. I was so happy to see him and have him that I took him to the store to buy a new toy.
I kept hugging him and thanking God that I'm HIS parent. I'm thankful that he's under my care...my obsessive, over protective, hovering care. I'm glad he's mine, and I'm responsible for him.
So, even though I ran 8 miles this morning with my running buds, I was still able to keep up with the first responders. It felt wonderful to know that my running was called upon to help someone in need. I don't know what would have happened if I wasn't able to get the police officers quickly to the wondering child. I'm just glad that God called upon me to use my acquired skill...running!
Just another day in Weenie's World!