Heading home down the highway from a doctor visit yesterday, Kohai and I witnessed an accident. We were traveling down the middle lane, minding our own business discussing the silver-lining to the fact we had to be reschedule this appointment, when I saw a truck swerve wildly about seven car lengths in front of us.
Before my left foot depressed the clutch to be followed by my right on the brake; before checking to my left to see if the car next to me would be swerving into my lane; before I glanced to my right to see if I had an out from the car coming into my lane; before I looked in the rear-view mirror to wonder if I would be rear ended by some jerk riding my ass; my right arm shot out to protect Kohai.
Logically I knew that my arm protecting Kohai wouldn't have mattered in an accident, but the protective mother reflex is powerful. The fight or flight instinct, most often fight, is encoded in all mothers. Just hope you don't get on the wrong end of a mama protecting her baby. I don't care if that baby is an hour old or thirty years old, you'll be in for the fight of your life.
I'm not knocking fathers, I know that they have this protective reflex too, an inherent need to protect their young, their family. I just think that mothers have a feral need, a fierceness, a ruthlessness even when it comes to protecting our babies. Nothing will stand in our way to make sure our offspring are safe, we'll move heaven and hell to do it.
Because of reflexes no one was hurt and only three cars were affected instead of many. Wondering just what made that truck swerve in the first place, I slowly made my way through the debris as drivers got out to assess the damage. My limbs were a little shaky from the adrenaline dump and I released a sigh of relief that we came out unscathed.
I think it might have been a mile or so from the accident before Kohai made me aware that I was still holding him protectively.
It's weird how things like this seem to happen in slow motion, but I'm positive that it was mere seconds. The sound of tire wheels screeching, the crunch of a car slamming into a bumper, debris flying and bouncing off the pavement, it was a slow macabre dance between steel machines choreographed by the reflexes of their human drivers.
Before my left foot depressed the clutch to be followed by my right on the brake; before checking to my left to see if the car next to me would be swerving into my lane; before I glanced to my right to see if I had an out from the car coming into my lane; before I looked in the rear-view mirror to wonder if I would be rear ended by some jerk riding my ass; my right arm shot out to protect Kohai.
Logically I knew that my arm protecting Kohai wouldn't have mattered in an accident, but the protective mother reflex is powerful. The fight or flight instinct, most often fight, is encoded in all mothers. Just hope you don't get on the wrong end of a mama protecting her baby. I don't care if that baby is an hour old or thirty years old, you'll be in for the fight of your life.
I'm not knocking fathers, I know that they have this protective reflex too, an inherent need to protect their young, their family. I just think that mothers have a feral need, a fierceness, a ruthlessness even when it comes to protecting our babies. Nothing will stand in our way to make sure our offspring are safe, we'll move heaven and hell to do it.
Because of reflexes no one was hurt and only three cars were affected instead of many. Wondering just what made that truck swerve in the first place, I slowly made my way through the debris as drivers got out to assess the damage. My limbs were a little shaky from the adrenaline dump and I released a sigh of relief that we came out unscathed.
I think it might have been a mile or so from the accident before Kohai made me aware that I was still holding him protectively.
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