Alex was being fussy and was not napping well, and the weather was nice out, so I decided that he and I should go for a walk. I strap him in to the Beco carrier and he and I head out. We do a lap around the apartment complex and just as we are getting towards the apartment, he falls asleep. I decide, “hey, why not walk more and give the kid a bit of a nap.” But ,instead of doing another lap, I head down the street for a change of scenery. After walking for a bit I loop around by the Target near our place and start heading back. At this point I reach here:
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Like any thinking person, I push the button for the walk signal and wait for the go ahead. I also stand near the crosswalk, safely away BUT CLEARLY VISIBLE TO ANYONE PAYING ATTENTION. The lights change, the walk signal activates (which includes beeping loudly, mind you), I pause to make sure no one does anything stupid, and then I start to cross…
Once I get about to about the middle of a minivan driven by someone who looks like this person —who was sitting there at the light, looking my direction earlier—she decides to gun it and try to make a right on red. Through the cross walk. Through the walk signal. Through me and the baby strapped to my chest.
1. I take a fast, large step to get past the car
2. Mid-step, I turn to get Alex out of the way of a direct hit
3. I put my left hand on the death-van that’s trying to run me over
4. I propel, with one arm, Alex and myself off of the van, flipping through the air like Eddy Gordo from Tekken ...you know, except white and with a baby (and less with the flipping and more with the turning).
5. I land safely on my feet, in a crouch, facing the opposite direction from where I started
6. I’m greeted by two things: (a) the look of pure horror on the face of the driver in the car behind death-van and (b) the sight of the van that nearly killed my son and myself finishing its turn, pausing briefly, and then speeding off.
7. I stand, give the van the finger, and finish crossing—all still with the walk signal.
8. Alex wakes up and gives me a look of, “did something just happen?”
9. I call Corinne as I continue to walk home to complain about the crazy driver.
And that, my friends, is the fun story of how I almost got run over while walking with Alex. Had I not been wearing him, I’m not so sure I would have been able to get both, or even one of us, out of the way. Take note, my story is an unexpected argument for baby wearing. Of course, if my kid slept like a “normal” baby, we might not have been there. Either way, we’re safe, and words cannot express how much I despise Connecticut drivers.