“Yeah, I think it’s because I talk to him like he’s an adult. I’ve never changed my language to fit with his age. Basically, he repeats whatever he’s heard me say. Would you like a hot chocolate or a coffee?” I offer, heading over to stand in line. “Getyour butt back over here.” The last part I direct at my kid, who seems to be distracted by the colorful lights on the merry-go-round.
“No, I’m good,” Lacey says. “I’ll help keep an eye on him. He is unnaturally good at running off.”
I laugh. “I considered one of those backpacks with a leash, but I decided I didn’t want to deal with the ugly looks from other moms.”
Lacey snorts. “I mean, you’re keeping the kid alive. What’s there to be unhappy about? People are way too judgmental.”
I wish I didn’t let it bother me, but I already feel judged. I get weird looks from the other moms whenever we go to story time or activities. And it’s not like I don’t get it. I was nineteen when I gave birth, but I got pregnant when I was eighteen. That’s insanely young.
I give her an appreciative smile and step up to give my order.
They have a whole tray of cooled hot chocolates for the kids, and the woman hands me a cup. I take a quick taste test because it’s better to be safe than sorry.
“Lucky, come get your drink,” I call over my shoulder, hoping it’ll lure him to me. It works, and I hand off his cup. “Please be careful. It’s not hot, but you don’t want to ruin your jacket.”
“I will,” he lies before promptly turning around and bolting.
I glance between the woman I still owe money to, and my kid, absconding with his stolen drink.
Jesus.
“I’ll follow him,” Lacey says.
“Thanks,” I mutter, digging in my purse.
God, there’s no way that I don’t look like a shitty parent.
I sip my hot chocolate, wondering if I should walk around to search for Lucky and Lacey. I’m afraid that if I leave my spot, they won’t know where to find me, and there are more people than I expected to be out and about.
My stomach tightens.
I don’t know Lacey very well, but I pray she’s capable of keeping up with a precocious three-year-old.
They’re experts at escaping.
I do some laps around the area, always keeping the drink stand in my line of sight. It’s been less than five minutes, but that feels like a long time for my kid to be out of view in such a public place.
I’m headed in the direction where I last saw them when Lacey comes toward me with Lucky on her hip.
His hot chocolate is missing, and she’s wiping off his leg with her hand.
Well, that didn’t last long.
Luckily mine isn’t terribly hot, so I’ll be able to share with him.
I beeline toward them, meeting them in the middle. We step to the side, making room so other people can access the sidewalk.
“What happened?” I hold out an arm for Lucky, and he chucks himself at my chest.
Lacey grimaces. “I wasn’t fast enough. He ran into this guy, and his hot chocolate went flying. I’m so sorry. I’ll buy him a replacement.”
I shrug. “It happens. Kids are like wrecking balls. He can have mine.” I offer mine to him, but he shakes his head.
“I wanna get down.” He stretches his legs, and if I didn’t have a solid hold on him, he would slide right down my front.
“Okay, but the next time you run off, we’re leaving,” I tell him, kissing his forehead. “Want to go stand in line to meet Santa and the elves?”
Lacey nods, and I laugh as Lucky squeals.
