Yesterday I went to Target to get my mini me new shoes. I had enrolled her in daycare for the first time. Im a little nervous though. For two and a half years she and I haven’t been separated for very long.
When we got there I stopped at Starbucks, she was pointing, saying truck. I turned to see what she was talking about. A ladder truck had pulled up a few minutes after we entered Target. I had ordered us a drink and turned to see that an ambulance arrived soon after. Our drink was ready for me to pick up. I push the buggy closer to the window and see a patrol car arriving. My cousin, Brandy, working behind the counter says that a child must’ve been locked in a car again. I said, “again?” She says, “oh yes, it happens all the time here.”
I turn back around to watch all the commotion. A couple of firemen grabbing tools from their truck, walk up to a small SUV and being prying the passenger door open. A lady nearby, pacing, her hands covering her mouth, I instantly assume that she’s the mother.
After several minutes of prying and pulling, the door gives way. A fireman unlocks the doors as a paramedic opens the back door. He turns around and in his arms a little boy, that looks like he could be at least one year old. His face red, but calm as could be. His mom stands next to the paramedic, watching him do his job. He checks him out then hands him over to mom, whom seems more than delighted to hold her baby boy. He must’ve been in there a good twenty minutes, maybe not that long.
I’m sure what had happened is that she had accidently locked her keys in the car while pushing her buggy back to the cart corral. It happens. With the triple degree weather we’ve been having daily almost the entire summer, the only thing anyone is thinking is to hurry and get out of the heat.