A Minor Miracle at Mickey D's

I've loved McDonald's since I was born - probably because my aunt worked on their advertising account. As a kid, I pretty much thought it was her company, so eating there felt like a matter of family pride. Not to mention the hamburgers, milk shakes, french fries, cherry pies, happy meal toys, and playlands...

Today, I took Noah to McDonald's for a date. He can spot the "slide!" from a block away, so he ate a few bites of hamburger and was off to explore. There's only one entrance to the tunnels that form the playland. Turn right, and it leads to a plastic 8'x8' fishbowl that sits just off the ground. Turn left, and the tunnels wind their way up at least 20' to a swirly slide.

I hovered near the fishbowl as he jumped and played with two little girls. Then a family that had been sitting nearby caught my attention. Turns out I went to high school with the parents. As we quickly caught up, I kept one eye on Noah.

One eye was not enough. My brain needed to be engaged. Instead, it was trying to understand that this police officer and mother of 3 were the same people I knew 15 years ago.

Noah had tired of the fishbowl and decided to follow the big kids up into the bowels of the tunnels. He made it almost to the top when he turned and looked out one of the little port-holes to see me far below. He leaned against the clear plastic and I could see him mouthing "Hup me, hup me."

That's when my stomach turned. What on earth was I going to do? I might be able to climb up the tunnels myself, but they were narrow and twisted, and at 9ms pregnant, this could just make matters exponentially worse. Thankfully, Noah chose not to cry. But his decision to just sit, suck his thumb, and wait for me to get him didn't make my path any clearer.

Enter my savior: my newly-reacquainted mother of 3 dove right in. Up she climbed and down the slide they came. I was so impressed and relieved. I still don't know what I would have done, but I suppose I don't have to - God provided an out. And next time, I will know to grab him before my little guy decides to become a mountain climber.