It was such a great day. I’d been walking along the path in the park. The sun shining, not too warm, fluffy white clouds were overhead. The air was so fresh and clean. I was feeling at peace with the world.
Suddenly I felt something brush past me. Looking up just in time to see a young hooligan, obviously, the “distraction.” I’ve been around this block a few times. The hooligan that bumped me was required to take my attention away from my purse, so that the hooligan, or hooligans, behind could easily grab it.
My mind flicked, a hundred miles an hour, over the possible scenarios, and my best course of action. The “bump” was young. Likely new at this, and it probably meant he was working with another youngster. Also, because, most pros wouldn’t bother with old ladies like me in a park. We wouldn’t have anything worth swiping.
Feeling confident, I tightened my grip enough, and waited the thirty seconds it took for part two. As the “grab” came, I swung my cane around so fast it literally sent the idiot flying into the woods.
The first kid took off like a shot. This one was too dazed to even get up. I stayed nearby to make sure he was OK.
Just then, a police officer came by asking if we were alright. The boy looked at me in panic, and I said “My grandson fell. He’s fine, just needs a minute to get his breath back.” The officer wished us a good day, and left.
That’s how I met Jeremy. His friend never came back. I brought him home. He “became” my grandson. I taught him everything I knew, and he’s taken care of me ever since.
Now that’s what I call family.