On occasion I send the kids out into the fenced-in back yard to run around and play while I get dinner ready in the kitchen and watch them through the large bay windows. I usually open one of the windows so I can keep a better ear out for anything that might be going on.
It is not uncommon to hear crying and one child yelling out that another isn’t sharing some toy or another. But, this one particular day while I am preparing dinner I turn my back to the window and happen to hear a child screaming “Help, Help”
Now a cry is one thing, a cry means the damage has already been done. I can only offer comfort at best at that point. But a cry for help is a completely different thing all together. A cry for help means danger is imminent but hasn’t happened yet and I might be able to stop it. I instantly dropped what I was doing and sprinted out the back door not even pausing to look out the window first.
I threw open the door and sprinted out into the yard to begin my visual sweep and assess the situation. I just knew that there wasn’t a moment to lose. Then I looked up. I saw my child in trouble. I stopped running. My three year old looks up at me and with deep concern in his voice calls out:
“Help, Help. This thing is stuck on me and it made my pants fall off!”
“Umm, yeah buddy, I’ll help you out. Just let daddy get his camera first….”