Life In the Fast Lane

Please notice Aramis' face in the background.  He's worried about growing up.

      This morning the Athos, the 12-year old, was determined to walk to school.  We don't live far from his school, but you have to walk along a very busy street with no sidewalk. There have been three attempted kidnappings on this street.  Hence, I drive my kids...every day, rain or shine, snow or sleet, ready or not. I did not want to get into the drama of arguing with him.  

     "Okay, if you leave on time, you can walk."

     "Really?"

     "Yep, but I'm going to follow you."

     "Oh, Mom, can't you just let me do what I want to do."  What he doesn't understand that when he was in the womb, he could do what he wanted.  He could roll, kick, hurt my spine, make me swell up like a pufferfish, and all sorts of antics.  But as soon as he came out of my body, he will never again be able to do what he wants to do. 

     He left late.  I offered to take the backpack in the car since I was going to the same place and then he could walk faster.  He refused.  The backpack is so heavy that I was afraid he would get instant scoliosis, but he insisted.  He marched on down the street, walking by a neighbor who was pulling out his garbage can.  My son exchanges good mornings with him and keeps hurrying on.  I follow behind him about 20-feet in the silver Honda Odyssey, looking like a stalker.  The neighbor looks at me, very confused, and yells out, "Hey, why don't you drive your kid to school instead of making him walk?"  Nice.

     He keeps walking out of the gated community to the busy street.  I'm watching the clock...tick, tick, tick.  I drive slowly along the side of the road.  Cars are raging by.  He's got a good 5 minutes to get there and the first bell has rung.  He slings his lunchbox over his shoulder.  I know he's not going to make it on time.  Like every good kidnapper, I roll down my window, "Hey, sweetheart, its 8:05, and the first bell has rung.  Can I give you a ride?"

     He rolls his eyes and gets in the car.

     I step on the gas.  Success.