Today we were driving down a busy highway when my preschooler suddenly gasped.
"What's wrong kiddo?"
I peak in the rear view mirror at him. He looks utterly disgusted.
"Mom!" he says, pointing to his window.
I look around, and nothing jumps out at me. There's no fire truck with its lights on. No cement mixer. Not even a convertible with its roof down. Nothing out of the ordinary.
He taps the glass, visibly upset. "Mom, look!"
I see a some regular old cars, minivans and a motorcycle ridden by a middle-aged couple.
"Mom, those people!" He points, really upset with the bikers.
The woman has long flowing blond hair. The guy sports a bandanna and a grey beard. They look pretty normal to me.
Shaking his head somberly, my son grumbles, "They're not wearing their helmets."
I recall all the times I've talked him about the importance of wearing a helmet - from riding in a Burley towed behind Daddy's bike, to his own trike to his big boy bike with training wheels. I can see the message clearly wasn't lost on him.
"Mom," he says. "I think they should go to time out."
"Yep," I said. "I think you're right."
9 months ago