“Can I see her?”
I explained safety as gently as I could.
He understood.
He still hated it.
After a few seconds, he asked, “Can I see her?”
“Of course.”
The next afternoon, Justin came into the kitchen while I was cooking.
He was quiet again.
Then:
“What if she doesn’t remember me?”
He tried to make the question sound casual, but his fingers kept folding and unfolding the corner of his napkin.
“Can we take her yard?”
I thought my twelve-year-old had spent the summer quietly helping elderly neighbors with their yards. Then, just days before school started, two police cars pulled up outside our house and asked for him by name.
Have you ever gone from being incredibly proud of your kid to absolutely terrified for them in a matter of minutes?
Because that happened to me three weeks before my son started seventh grade, and I still think about how differently that afternoon could have gone.
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