Dear Busy Mom...

Oh, honey.

I know the last thing you wanted to do in this miserable weather is drag your children around town running errands. They've been fussing the whole time just bored out of their skulls. And every time you have to stop at a new place, you have to do the whole buckle/unbuckle, stroller/unstroller routine.

It's tiring.
I know.

And now they've finally fallen asleep in the back seat and you have just this one stop to make. It's the only chance you'll get to stop at the salon and pick up that special conditioner for your battered, split-ended hair before your husband's fancy company dinner that you need to look nice for.
It'll only take you a minute.

Well, I waited.
I watched you pull into the parking space.
Crooked.
With one tire on the curb, and your rear bumper in traffic.
Your engine running.

I watched you walk in the salon.
But you didn't come out in just a minute.

I waited.
I watched your kids, and I waited.
Two minutes.
Five minutes.

I called information on my cell and got the number of the salon you were in.
I called the salon and told them how you parked and that you had your babies in the car.
I begged them to hurry you up.

I waited.
And I watched your kids.
Until you came out.

Honey, you just can't leave your children like that.

So many vehicles could have hit your car and crushed it into another parked car.
Someone might've seen abandoned, neglected children and called the police on you.
Someone else might have just driven your babies away.

I know you're so tired and so busy.
But you just can't do that.

I'll keep and eye out for you, but I probably won't be there for you the next time.