Ah, summer.
The days of bike rides and trips to the park, of water gun fights and playing the iPad outside instead of on the couch. The days of the house smelling like an oddly enjoyable combination of outside, sunscreen and smelly shoes, of a steady pile of beach towels and grass stained clothes on top the washer....
And this.
This, my friends, is a picture of my soaking wet, fully clothed four year old, sent to me at work with a text from my husband reading "No, the answer to this picture is not that we jumped in the pool or that he is that sweaty. Any guesses?"
Now, had I not missed the string of group messages between Joe and my mom outlining what had transpired while I was in a meeting and just opened up my messages to see this, I might have participated in this little guessing game.
But the fact that I had missed 10+ messages and saw nothing but this picture and the last text from my mom, which asked where Blake was when all of this was going on, threw me into full on mommy panic mode.
Never have I called Joe so quickly before. Never have I been more annoyed that he didn't pick up his phone.
Thankfully for everyone's health and well being, he called back pretty quickly and gave me the rundown of their little walk today.
I'm actually not sure how I feel about missing this one, but I do secretly kind of hope that the rest of what unfolded was viewed by someone sitting on their patio enjoying their morning coffee...because that would have been one entertaining cup of coffee.
So Joe took the boys on a little walk this morning and apparently, Ben took a corner a little faster than he should have on his bike and he rode off of the sidewalk and into the grass. Not the end of the world...
If the grass he turned into was not a hill and the hill did not lead to a lake.
So there goes the runaway bike carrying my son, who is feverishly trying to get the brakes to work as the bike is picking up a decent amount of speed right towards that damn lake.
And there goes my husband, ditching the baby in the stroller to sprint down the hill after the kid on the bike.
I still wonder what little Blake was thinking as he sat in his stroller at the top of the hill, just watching his brother fly down the hill and his daddy sprinting after him.
It would also be fascinating to know what was going through everyone's heads when Ben's front tire hit a rock throwing him over the handlebars and a few feet into the water.
Or when Joe dove in after the fully submerged Ben and scooped him up.
I'm sure sheer panic was rushing through both Ben and Joe as he waded back up onto land and carried Ben back up the hill...seaweed hanging from his ears and tears and lake water running down his cheeks.
Apparently the crying didn't last long though, because something clicked in Ben's little head and he realized that he is now just like the guys in his video game who knock people off of platforms and fly into water.
Kids are resilient.
After much consideration, it was defnitely a gift from God that this spaz wasn't there today when this all happened. I'm sure Joe looked focused on the prize when he was sprinting down the hill to retrieve our son. I, on the other hand, would have already been crying, my arms would have probably been flailing like a crazy person, there would have definitely been screaming and I'm sure I would have just made the whole situation worse.
Yes, at the end of it all, I'm pretty sure I was meant to be missing from that morning.
It was definitely better getting a phone call from Ben (after he was done washing the seaweed off in a nice long shower) who retold the story fabulously.
He was so proud of it all. And something about the "it was so cool, Mom" line of his story, sparks a little bit of worry that he may "accidentally" take a nice trip to the lake again soon.
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