I filled my glass with water and shut the refrigerator door. As I took a drink I looked at my husband and we rolled our eyes at the sound of a child's cry. We had just finished putting the kids to bed. We debated which child it was and then told each other "He's your kid." I lost the draw and headed out to tell him to go to sleep.
As I approached the staircase I saw him standing at the top of the stair case sobbing "Mom, I saw a police out side, I really, really did"
A little back ground here. Osito is terrified of the Police. We don't know why. We are law abiding folk so we don't have any reason to fear law enforcement in our home. We don't talk disparagingly about the police and our position is that Police are there to help and protect us. This reasoning falls on deaf four year old ears. He is convinced that the Police are going to come get him.
Osito is a thinker, he thinks about things and tears and frustration come from what seem like out of no where as he thinks about something in the past and then gets mad about it all over again. A common frustration is something one of us said ages ago and he brings it up and it has to be hashed out all over again. Once, I found him sitting on the stairs, enormous elephantine tears rolling down his face getting his shirt all wet, filling up his glasses; he was crying because he had hurt Nutmeg and the Police were coming to get him. I didn't even know he had hurt her.
He asks us questions at random times about the police, "Where to they live?", "What do they take you to jail for?", "What do they eat!"
So last night as I stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at him, I thought, "Ugh, not again." Then I turned and looked at the front window to see red lights flashing on the blinds! I went to the door and saw a police car that had pulled someone over on the main road and they obviously chose our road to pull over on, and since our house is the first house with enough room to park in front of and doesn't have an enormous Cascade Water truck parked in front of it, they stopped in front of our house. Nice.
Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, but he was sleeping in our room at the front of the house rather than his room at the back of the house. What are the odds?
Naturally, Osito was sure that they were here for him.
Well, I ran up the stairs and swooped him up, telling him about traffic stops and assuring him that they were not there for him. Eventually the patrol car left and Osito went back to sleep. The only thing that would have been worse is if the police knocked on the door and he opened the door!
Last night Osito faced his worst fear, and survived.
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1 comment:
I, too, was freaked out by police officers as a kid. Social workers too--they were the bogey man. The kid has great instincts.
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