“I can do this” I tell myself. “I can run for food with a squirmy, high energy toddler.” I think of going through the drive-through but when he sees the slides, he begs for me to park. I have a gut feeling about how it could possibly play out but choose to allow him that fun opportunity.
I explain that he can only go down the slide 5 times. I put up his chubby little fingers and count how many times he can slide. “One slide, two slides…”, I say as I trace each finger. He agrees with a reluctant head nod. I unbuckle his seatbelt and get us off the truck. After placing our “to go” food order, we head over to the slides.
I let him enjoy even a bit longer time on the slides and give him a 2 minute warning. Our food is brought out to us in several sacks and a drink holder.
Begrudgingly, he sits for shoes back on feet. I collect all the food and the drink holder in one hand and go to grab his little chubby hand in mine.
I can tell he’s not happy about leaving so I tell him what a big help he is being and that we need to get the food home so we can all eat together. I can tell the wheels are spinning in his head…much to his dismay.
We make it exactly to the middle of the high traffic, parking lot turn lane and my son decides he’s not leaving the restaurant and that we must go back to the slides. He instantly goes limp to the ground with me still holding his hand and goes into a high pitched full out banshee screaming, kicking fit. Of course he chooses to do this at the exact same time a black Camaro is barreling down on us.
I’m doing my best to hold onto him while moving him to safety, and keeping our food order upright. But I’m failing miserably. On the verge of frustrated, frightened tears, I utter a “God, HELP!”
Brakes a squealing, the Camaro comes to stop a few feet from us. Out jumps this young man at a full sprint toward us. I’m in full momma bear mode and ready to drop my food order to grab my son…least this guy tries to grab my child and bolt…after all, his car was running and its door was wide open.
He puts his palms up and calmly says, “I’m here to help…hand me the food and drinks while you grab your baby.”
I instantly feel myself relax a notch as I hand him my food order and bend down to scoop my tantrum-throwing son up into my arms.
Over hysterical toddler screams, I tell the young man how far my truck is. We make it to the truck and I tell him he can just set the food by the driver’s side door. I still have to get my child buckled in and he’s doing the full octopus mode of splaying out limps and grabbing onto truck parts so I can’t get him into his car seat.
The young man says, “Take your time, it’s okay, Mom, I’ll wait for you to get him settled in.”
After what seems like an eternity, I finally get angry child settled into his car seat. I turn to take the food from the young man and with tears in my eyes I tell him how much I appreciate his help and that he was truly an angel sent to help me today.
He bashfully tells me it was nothing and turns to walk back to his car.
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