by Amanda from The Mom Job
I’d hear jingle, jingle clank, clank each time he’d shift his weight while sitting, albeit rather impatiently, in the large, green chair in our living room. Conner didn’t ask too many questions and accepted his sentencing – to wait out 4 hours with military grade handcuffs strapped around one ankle.
Not 30 minutes prior, Conner’s curiosity captured him and his right leg. He trapped himself in the handcuffs an employee gave my husband as prank gift, and came to me for the keys.
“Oh no baby! Daddy has the keys on his key ring and he’s at work till 4, at least!” I answered to his sad little eyes.
He responded with the look he normal gives when he says “Are you being serious, momma?”.
I laughed a bit with Conner to lighten the mood while assuring him that the cuffs were not on tight, and then Michael text me a suggestion – “put the other cuff on the same leg”. (Oh man, the laughter) This way, Conner wouldn’t be annoyed with the cuffs hanging off his leg and on to the floor nor would they wear on his skin.
I grabbed a long pair of pj bottoms, pulled the leg through the first cuff, and gently locked the second. Conner sat so quietly, and laughed only when I told him he was my prisoner for the day.
And so he waited, without so much as a peep.
Four hours later, Michael walked through the front door. Conner sunk slowly to the ground from his green chair and placed one cuffed ankle into the air. He didn’t say a word but his face read “UNLOCK ME NOW!”. Michael slipped the key into each cuff, turned and suddenly, Conner was free.
He hasn’t asked about the handcuffs since his “hard time”, they’ve been put away (NEVER TO BE USED BY ANYONE) and maybe, he has learned that the criminal lifestyle is not for him. After all, no one looks good in stripes and ankle bracelets.
About Amanda:
My name is Amanda and my last name is hardly pronounceable. I’m currently 25 and the mother of 2 half-breed monkey/gorilla hybrids wonderfully rowdy boys (under 5), blogging LIVE! from a city somewhere in Alabama… I have the personality of a 6′6″ man trapped in a 4′10.5″ body. I’m loud, sometimes bitchy, occasionally moody, disorganized yet incredibly passionate and a total goofball. My friends just think I’m odd and that’s fine by me.
You can read more from Amanda over at The Mom Job and you can follow her on twitter @themomjob
