Locks and Electric Fences

I admit it. I am an overprotective mom.

However, in my defense, my pediatrician says, "Debra, you are your child's only advocate and protector."

That being said, maybe you can decide if I went a little over the top today.

We have some new kids on the block who are not being raised with like values or morals as our children. They sometimes lure my son out of the safety of the backyard to get him in trouble.

After getting off the phone today with the credit card company, who told me they stopped accepting payments over the phone, (by the way...credit cards are evil) I went to call my son from the backyard. He wasn't there.

One of these little boys, who is three years old, talked my son into going into the front yard to smash mushrooms. I don't have a problem with mushroom smashing, however, I asked him specifically not to go into the front yard.

I was mad at the direct disobedience.

I positioned myself in the front yard with the acceptable "What do you think you're doing?" motherly pose and waited for him to look at me. Finally, after he finished his smashing, he looks at me and says, "Oh."

I said, "That's right, oh." I called for my daughter and told my son to get in the car. I politely told the three year old that he needed to go home.

My son says, "Where are we going?"

"To get an electric fence device," I fumbled for my keys.

My son jumps in the backseat, "What are you trying to do, kill me?"

Smart six year old. I didn't have any idea he'd know what that meant when I smarted off.

In my best motherly tone, I said, "We are going to buy locks for the gates around the house, since I can no longer trust you to stay in the backyard."

"Is it going to electrocute me?"

At this moment, I see a red truck creeping down our street. The driver rolls down his window and is watching the three year old leave our house. He speaks to the little boy. Then my son's friend runs like mad home. It had all the signs of stranger danger.

"Son, you see that truck?"

"Yeah."

"He's a stranger and he's talking to Maury."

"What does he want?"

"I don't know." I kept both my eyes on the man in the truck. "But this is the reason we are getting locks for the gates. You never know who might drive near our front yard and want to talk to you. Or worse try to talk you into getting in their truck."

We returned home from Wal-mart and I placed the locks on every gate. I told my son that he could go into the backyard to play, but if I caught him crawling on our fence I promised I would embarrass him in front of all his friends with a good scolding.

Sheepishly, my son walked out of the house and into the backyard. He investigated all three gates with their prospective locks. "Mom?" he called.

"What is it?" I said, while hiding the keys.

"Am I going to get shocked if I touch the fence?"

"What do you think?"