This is a picture of the street at the end of the court where I work:
Every so often we venture to this treacherous street to get the kids out for some fresh air, or, when we’re even more adventurous, we cross the scary street in order to catch the public bus. Looking at this photo you may be wondering why I’ve selected such daunting adjectives to describe the seemingly normal street. But do not be deceived, this street is capable of giving me heart attacks.
Once we open the front door of the daycare a stampede of 2-3 year olds break through the imaginary barrier of the driveway and book it toward that stop sign in the photo. Every time I trail behind them in a half walk/jog dealio as my mind races through this torturous inner dialogue: “They’ll stop at the end of the street. Of course they’ll stop. We told them to stop.” “OMG they’re not going to stop!” “No, no they’ll totally stop.” “They’re not stopping...I’M GOING TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR ROADKILL BABIES.” Mind you, during these internal panic attacks, my boss is always casually strolling behind me not giving off the slightest air of concern. And she’s always right. They always stop. Every single one of them, every single time. One little girl, whom we’ve deemed The Runner, sprints with all her mini-might right up to the edge of the curb and then whispers to herself “We don’t cwoss the stweet. A car can hit you in the stweet.” I’m thankful for her self regulation, but I really wish she and the others would just stay in the safety of the driveway as to prevent the premature death of me.
I love this post! It is so true and hilarious to me. I see myself as a mother bear- I calmly watch them, knowing what they are capable of, and when I feel they could get themselves into trouble, I step in. There are definitely times they scare me too, though. I will never look at our outings or that sign the same way again. Thanks for your insight!
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