We had a fenced back yard where Stevie could play with minimal supervision, and he had some of his favorite toys he could play with. But there were times when we would go out to the front yard.

As I mentioned in an earlier writing, our apartment faced a very busy street. There was a small lawn, then the sidewalk, then a very narrow strip of grass between the sidewalk and the curb. Then the street.

I had told Stevie not to go beyond the sidewalk, and usually he stayed close to me. We picked clover and those little yellow flowers that eventually turned into burrs. And got chigger bites.

But one day, my attention was diverted by just (it seems) a second, and Stevie had crossed the sidewalk and was almost to the curb, headed for the street. I yelled his name, and moved (almost) at the speed of light to grab him and haul him away from the street.

(And I hang my head) I whallopped his diaper clad bottom. But he never ventured beyond the sidewalk again.

Sometimes when we went downtown on the bus to meet Papa, I had a baby harness and leash that I used. Now this was a very quick child, a very inquisitive child, and I didn't dare let go of him for an instant (as above). But you should have seen the dirty looks I got from people when they saw my child being treated like an animal, for heavens sake!! Well, he was my child, and I was responsible.

Anyway, this particular day, he spotted Papa across the intersection and tried to run to him. Fortunately, I had the leash firmly in hand, and he had to wait with me until the traffic light changed. Then we went to greet Papa.

I don't care what people thought. I kept my baby safe, and I'd do the same thing again. And in fact did, with the next two children. So there!

Shalom.