Getting out of the car is not easy. Our youngest children like to sprint across the parking lot. They have no idea of the danger they are in. They are just ready to eat. When we get inside, the kids run around until I get them seated. I turn on a show. They are distracted for the moment. Before they get undistracted, I run to order our food. Keeping a close watch on the kids, I pick everything up and fill up all of our drinks. Stumbling around with the trey, I push toward the table. The kids get so excited when the food comes. There is little talking as they suck every single morsel of food down their throats. I was afraid that one of our babies might be the next thing that gets sucked down. Regardless, I let myself feel the joy of the moment. We were there. We were eating together. We were there. Until, we weren’t.
Looking up, I realized that the guy at the table next to us was filming us. When I realized what was going on, I quickly pulled the kids out of their seats and pushed them to the door. The kids couldn’t understand what the rush was. How do you quickly explain to young children? I couldn’t think of anything but getting my kids out of there. When I felt like the kids were safer, I looked back. The asshole was still filming. Before I hurried the kids out, I interacted with the filmmaker. There was enough communication exchanged for me to know that this guy knew who I was and had nefarious reasons for filming my kids and I. We went to the yogurt shop next…but my mind was still on that camera. While this certainly wasn’t the first time something like this has happened to me…and I’m sure it won’t be the last…the kids made this one different. It wasn’t just an attack on me. It was an attack on all of us. The kids just kept eating their yogurt. In their minds, nothing had happened. I haven’t been able to think that way.
Amen.
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