Wal-Mart Paranoia

Parents sometimes sure can be paranoid, can't they?

We took a trip to Wal-Mart last night and were sitting at the Subway in the back when a guy of about 50 or so came and sat near us.

He started talking in Mason, which of course isn't unusual. He asked how old he was and Crystal told him, and we went back to eating.

The guy continued to talk to Mason and ask questions-the usual-"where'd you get that blond hair?" "You want some dinner, don't you?"-that sort of stuff.

Soon, Riley felt the need to chime in. "His name is Mason," Riley said. Crystal glared at Riley and shushed him.

"Eat your dinner," I said.

But Riley couldn't resist the attention. "I'm 4," he said, holding up 4 fingers. The man seemed to ignore Riley.

Crystal looked at me. "That guy freaks me out," she murmured.

I nodded in agreement, then glanced at him again, sizing him up a little. He had white hair and a mustache to match, wearing a somewhat ratty sweatshirt and a baseball hat, and lisped when he spoke. He didn't seem, as Crystal might say, "all there."

We finished our sandwiches as the guy continued to randomly comment about things, and soon my mind kicked into gear. I made a mental note to keep a close eye on the three kids, especially Mason, who seemed to be the the object of the man's affections.

As we went through the store, we were indeed doubly sure that we closely watched the kids, and Mason, sitting in the cart's basket, was buckled in, and Crystal or I were always standing with him.

When the time came to leave, our usual routine is that I take the kids to the car while Crystal checks out. Jenna didn't have any shoes on, so I had to carry her out, leaving me an arm short of taking all three. I took Riley and Jenna, loaded them in the car, and pulled up near the door.

It took only a few seconds for me to imagine the man running out of Wal-Mart with Mason cradled in his arms, and Crystal unloading the cart, oblivious to the fact her youngest was gone. I imagined TV reporters and missing persons reports, and police scouring dumpsters and landfills looking for my son. I also imagined myself seeing the guy with Mason, and pummeling him within an inch of his life.

I watched both entrances like a hawk. Surely I'd be able to see if someone came running out with him, right?

Finally Crystal came out of the store, Mason still strapped safely in the cart. I took him, and sat him in his seat as if he were made of glass.

I suppose it's instinct to be protective of your children, but I wonder why this sudden wave of paranoia swept over me. It's something parents live with, and is something that serves them well I suppose, if you want to include the better-safe-than-sorry theory of parenting.

But you also suffer from the "you never know" school of thought. What if that guy was totally harmless? Or what if he had been plotting to abduct Mason and do terrible things to him? Will he victimize some other child? Or will he go on just being harmless, freaking out parents with his interest in kids?