My five-year-old son has a penchant for law enforcement. We don't see him trying out for the local police force anytime soon, but we do see a pattern emerging that's either intriguing or troubling depending upon your point of view.
When he was 18 months old, he got a hold of the phone and managed to dial 9-1-1. I found the phone lying on the kitchen floor and hung it up, unaware that an emergency operator was still on the other end.
It was only after the operator rang back and I answered that I realized what he'd done. No emergency here, ma'am, just a rambunctious toddler.
When my boy was 2, he randomly dialed 9-1-1 again. This time I found out about it because a uniformed sheriff's deputy rang our doorbell. Was everything okay here? They'd received an emergency call but the caller had hung up.
I knew we could be fined a couple hundred dollars for sounding a false alarm but I dutifully explained my son had gotten the telephone and that it was he who made the call.
Fast forward three years to today. My son was on the patio when I came home from the grocery store. Wearing only his underwear, he was goofing around with the water hose as I walked inside. I came and went a couple more times and did not pay particular attention to his whereabouts.
It wasn't until I got ready to lock the gate that opens out to our front yard and the nearby street that I realized my son was nowhere to be found. I began calling for him, one of his sisters ran through the yard calling for him, I raced upstairs calling for him, and still no answer.
I remembered reading about cases involving child abductions on sunny days in nicer neighborhoods while the child was right in his or her front yard. Had my son gone out the front gate? I ran to the front door and yanked it open, hollering his name as I charged outside. No answer.
No answer.
Where was he?
After about 15 minutes had passed, I did the only thing a reasonably crazed mother would do. I called the sheriff's department and reported my child as missing.
I was still on the line with the emergency dispatcher when my mother came from around the far side of our house to report that she'd found my son playing in an area near some electrical equipment that runs our septic system pump, oblivious to his frantic mother's voice.
The call was cancelled, my son was sent to his room after enduring the terrible fury of a mom gone mad (I told him he better never ignore my calling him again or I'd figure out a way to keep him in his room until he was 20), and I thought all was well that ended well.
Then the doorbell rang.
Sure enough, when I answered it there stood a uniformed sheriff's deputy. I told him I thought the call for help had been cancelled and he explained to me that he was still required to follow up. I assured him we'd found the right child and that said child was up in his room contemplating his predicament. The officer was satisfied and left.
I thought later I should've had my son come down and see for himself that when you fail to heed your mother's voice, guys with guns really do show up at your front door.
There's a sobering lesson in there somewhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment