Vignettes from the Beach 2

As I left the beach yesterday, a little boy was slumped at the foot of the path through the dunes, his abandoned burden, a beach ball and shovel, in the sand beside him.  His face was twisted with frustration from brow to chin.  Mom stood nearby, cajoling him to come along, while shouldering her own burden of beach bag, chair, cooler, and one of those impossibly heavy baby carriers with a baby inside.  Still, the little guy didn't budge.  He just didn't have it in him to go any further and he wailed in protest.

As I took in this scene, I felt for the mother and remembered my own days of getting three kids on and off the beach, the departure being the much harder journey.  I offered my help.  "Let me take the baby to the end of the path and you can help him.  He's had enough."

Mom was torn.  Was I a child abductor or simply a busy body intruding on this private meltdown?  Ultimately, she took my offer for what it was worth, a helping hand, and she handed the baby carrier over, scooped up the little guy, and I walked them to their car, with Mom worrying the whole way..."Am I a bad mother?  I left it just 15 minutes too long..."

I assured her she most definitely wasn't a bad mom, and that her son was just beyond his threshhold.  I channeled words of wisdom from my magical co-worker, Pam, as I left.  "Don't you wish you could express yourself so freely when you've had enough?"