“The man gonna lock you up!”
My husband was letting our ten-year-old drive the golf cart on a three-mile tropical island, when a passerby called out. Father and son quickly switched places. But…
Two days later, with our teenagers fuming and traumatized, my advice to the fourteen-year-old was… in ten years, you can tease him. Definitely in thirty. Maybe even next year. But not today.
While I was in the shower, my husband sent the boys in the golf cart to pick up milk. They returned with the milk, sans golf cart.
“He is such an idiot!”
“If you weren’t such a jerk…”
I looked questioningly at the ten-year-old, who smiled, “I have noooo idea.”
The fourteen-year-old, spreading blame, stared down his father, “You need to go to the police station if you want the keys back!”
Apparently, with his little brothers yelling at him, the anxious fifteen-year-old had allegedly run through a stop sign, barely missing Sergeant Taylor of the Harbour Island police with the golf cart.
Sergeant Taylor made them walk home.
“The tree was blocking the stop sign!”
“He’s an idiot!”
“He was yelling at me!”
But it was my husband who had to retrieve the keys. He showed up at the station, his friend as wingman, proverbial hat in hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough.” Sergeant Taylor accused him of child neglect.
The grown-ups in the police station felt sixteen, reamed again for similar transgressions more than thirty years old in the banks of memory.
“Man gonna lock you up!”
But how to make peace between the brothers back at the house?
Maybe today, this isn’t fun. But no one got hurt. We all learned something. See the stop sign. Don’t make the sergeant mad. Yelling at your brother for a wrong turn leads to other wrong turns. Teaching independence must fall within the law of the land.
And guys, by next year… definitely in ten years… or thirty…
You’ll still be fighting over whose fault it was, but we’ll always remember today as the standout story of 2018.