Suburban Surfer

Dropping B off at camp this morning and parked beside a Suburban. The driver door opens and a boy of 6 or 7 climbs out the door and onto the roof.

He’s in PJs, slippers and a robe. He is doing all kinds of poses and stunts on the roof-  laying down, exercising, standing up, sliding from one end of the roof to the other.

I walked B up and checked him in, wondering all along how that boy’s mother would feel about what he’s doing.

Walking back to the car, he’s still up there, so I pull out my phone to take a picture. Didn’t get a chance because, all of a sudden, he says, “Uh, oh!” and starts scrambling off the roof.

From behind me comes a booming voice, “GIT OFF THERE, YOU KNOW YOU AIN’T SUPPOSED TO DO THAT NO MORE!”

I get in my car; she gets in hers.  I start up; she doesn’t. I pull out of the parking lot; she’s still there. I keep checking my rear view mirror until I can’t see the Suburban any more, and it’s still in the same space.

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