Briggs just yelled – in fear – from his bedroom.

Instantly, Ken and I dropped our books, sprang off the couch and lunged up the stairs.  Spanning two or three stairs with each step.

Ken got to him first.

He’d started a groggy walk out of bed and found he hadn’t cleared all of his Matchbox cars out of his path.  The combination of the unexpected cool and sharp metal under his bare foot, and the shadows from the hallway light creeping into his room, got the best of his imagination.

He mistook his beloved cars for scary bugs.

Dad soothed him.  I soothed him.  And within a few minutes he was snugged back in bed, back to sleep…but, not before I told him:

“You’re always safe here in your room Bud, but you can always call out for help whenever you feel scared.  Ok? Always.”

“Okay, Mom.  I love you.”

“I love you, too, Love-A-Lou.”

Another snug.  Another kiss.  Another reminder to learn from our kids.

When you are scared, yell for help.

Someone will answer.  Might even be you.