My Very Own Little Safety Patrol Man

Growing up we referred to my Dad as "Safety Patrol Man." And, I am not just talking about within the family - even my closest friends knew him by this name. He was/is serious about safety. Don't ask me how or why, but once the company he worked for gave him a jacket with a patch on the sleeve that said "Safety Patrol." It was an award of sorts received by the executive who turned off the most lights after leaving the room, locked the most doors behind him, or something of that nature. Seriously, my father traded futures for the commodity market, so I am not sure how the whole safety award thing actually came about. But, his company had an award for safety, and, rightly, he received it.

He pushed safety big time in our home. I have so many memories of being scared half to pieces as he monthly checked our fire alarms. He checked the doors five or so times to make sure that they were locked before going to bed each night. The thermostat was strictly off limits. In the summer we were a bit on the warm side, and in the winter, we were a bit on the cold side - to save energy, of course. But, to touch the thermostat meant you might just lose a hand - or so we believed. And, as soon as the temperature dropped below 70, a coat was in order and a hat, too, of course. Everyone knows that "you lose a large perentage of heat from your head." And, when you are seventeen, you don't care one bit if you have hat hair when you get to school. You stayed warm and that is all that really matters to seventeen year old girls. Right? (Love you, Daddy!) And, the big joke was that the "Smith girls" could only drive in perfect weather. If it was too hot, the heat wasn't good for the car. If it was too cold, then, you better not drive because it just might start to sleet. And, you don't even want to think about driving in the rain because that is an accident waiting to happen, and you wouldn't want to have a head-on with a tornado.

Do you know how much I love this man? I think you can see how much he loved me! He did everything in his power to keep me safe.

After I married Erik, I became the safety patrol. Pulling out of the driveway - only to pull right back in - gotta double check to make sure that my curling iron is unplugged, or that the oven is off, or that all the lights are off, or all of the above. But, now I have my Joshua. And, he has usurped me of my safety patrol power. He has put me back in my place as the recipient of safety instruction. In his 3 year old mind, it is his job to take care of me and our home and our car, etc. Here are a few examples. You may think that I am exagerating or making this up, but I assure you that I am not. He is his Poppy's grandson. He gets it honest. Here goes. . .

* I tend to grip the steering wheel with one hand. I rest my right arm on my leg and steer from the bottom of the wheel. This bothers my sweet son who says to me, "Mommy, you need to put your hands on the steering wheel. The car will go off the road if you don't steer it. We don't want to have an axxident." I smile to myself, and reluctantly put both hands on the wheel, up high, so that he can see them and feel safe.

* When we park the car and begin walking into a store, he often says, "Mommy, you didn't lock the car." To which I assure him, "Yes, I did." Then, he responds, "Are you sure? I didn't hear it honk. Make it honk, Mommy, so that I know it is locked." Yes, he is 3, almost 4, but still much too young to worry about such.

* The other day I was on the cell phone when we came into the house from shopping. I had JCT, several bags, and a cell phone in my hand. I didn't shut the back door all the way when we came inside. So, for the next 15 minutes, as I tried to finish up my phone call, Joshua kept saying over and over, "You didn't shut the door, Mommy. Mommy, you didn't shut the door." Even after I carefully closed the back door, he kept on, "Mommy, you left the door open. Mommy, the door. You need to close it." I finally got off the phone, a bit exasperated, and inquired, "Joshua, the door is closed. I closed it. Why do you keep saying that?" He, very matter of factly, replied, "Not the house door, Mommy. You left the van door open, the door on my side. We need to shut it." I went outside, and he was right. There was the side door of the van - wide open, smiling at me.

* I tend to forget my sunglasses which are as vital an accessory to me as my wedding ring. After forgetting them several times and complaining about not having them, Joshua has decided he needs to step in and help me. So, when we get in the car, my little safety patrol man sweetly asks, "Mommy, did you remember your sunglasses? Just making sure. . ."

* I don't know why, but this one is my favorite. . . The other day as we were pulling out of the driveway, out of the blue and much to his mother's surprise, Joshua gasps and yells, "MOMMY! STOP THE CAR!!" I slammed on the brakes wondering if he saw an animal or a person that I was about to hit. I turned my head to face him, "What is it?" His response. . .

"I think you forgot to turn my sound machine off!!!!"

What, I ask, would I ever do without him?

* When I drive at night, I get to hear this common reminder from my sweet little man. . . "Mommy, do you have your front lights on? Because it is night, and at night you need your front lights on so that you can see."

* If I don't take the same roads as usual to certain places such as church, the library, Daddy's office, etc., I hear from my little backseat driver, "Mommy, this is not the way to Daddy's office. You need to just turn this car around and go back the other way."

* And, to the workers who tirelessly work on our home each day, Joshua says in a voice full of appreciation, "That is LOUD. You are being VERY LOUD. You are going to wake up James Crisper. You need to BE QUIET, please."

* Just today I overheard Joshua giving JCT this little lecture. . . "JCT, if you are not using the toy, you need to turn it off. That wastes badderies. You wouldn't want to waste the badderies, would you?"

Okay, already, I will quit. . . I could go on and on. . . Honestly, when Joshua makes one of these cautious little comments of his, I smile and remember the first man that I ever loved, my original safety patrol man, my Daddy. Thank You, God for sending these sweet men to take good care of me.