To the man who gave me a baseball, Thank You.
You see, I was patiently sitting as I was being screamed at and nearly beaten to death by a 2 year old child...when literally, I believe this man saved my life.
Let me back up and explain more.
I took Kaylee to a baseball game tonight. My friend has three boys around Kay's age, so I invited them to join us. They accepted. At the ballgame my friend's middle child needed a bathroom break.
"Can you watch them while I take him to the bathroom?"
...was pretty much the last thing I recall before blacking out.
Kidding, kidding. I didn't black out.
So let me share what happened next. The scathing fury of a toddler who has separation anxiety and has been left with someone they aren't terribly familiar with (a.k.a. "me") was officially unleashed. I prayed. I held on to him out of fear as I was screamed at and beaten for what seemed like an eternity. Occassionally Kaylee and Jack (the older child) would come chat with me, which helped to distract me from the beating I was enduring.
....Suddenly, a man appeared before me. I don't even think words were exchanged. I think the pity in his eyes and the wounds on my body spoke it all. He handed me a baseball. I handed the baseball to the child. The child stopped screaming. A few minutes later he also stopped beating me up. I lived.
