On occasion, the guys and I travel without Big Fish. While we definitely miss his company and would prefer to move as an intact family unit, sometimes schedules conflict and it just doesn’t work out. On those trips, I miss Big Fish’s company most at night.
Um. I mean, I miss Big Fish’s company most at night because that’s when darkness falls, and my mother’s and woman’s instinctive fear of the boogeyman begins to kick in. Hey, I never said I was a brave person.
Fortunately, a very strong survival instinct runs in my family. We enjoy being alive, and we’re not afraid of a hearty mix of common sense, proper planning, and a good dose of paranoia to keep us safe.
There are the usual personal safety tips: Stay aware of your surroundings. Make eye contact with scary people. Keep a repertoire of personal defense moves in the back of your mind (and practice them often to stay sharp). Lock your doors. And then? Pray a lot.
Since my imagination often rages out of control even after I’ve taken all the logical safety steps, I like to throw a little creative protection in, too. For example:
On a trip to a beach condo, the door didn’t have a dead bolt or chain. Just a flimsy door lock. Before I went to bed, I meticulously stacked a pile of metal cookie sheets, pots, and pans next to the door. Bad guy comes in, and I was gonna hear it. (Then run like heck, I guess. Fortunately, I didn’t end up needing a step 2.) Down side: Forgot about it when I went out to get water during the night and crashed into it, scaring the snot out of the boys.
On our tenting trip to Stone Mountain, the guys had these brilliant light saber-type things that you’re supposed to wave around madly at the laser show (they did). That night, we planned our defense: If I heard a bad guy breaking into the tent, I’d yell, “Dazzle!” and the kids would turn the sabres on the most annoying, blinding mode and start whipping them around while I got my hands on the pepper spray. This would confuse the attacker. Then I’d yell, “Drop!” and they’d duck down and cover their heads. That’s because the fan was on in the tent, and as I sprayed the bad guy with pepper spray, I didn’t want the wind to blow it into the kids’ eyes instead. I think there was some third step (“Run!” maybe? But I thought it was a nice alliteration word to round out the trifecta of defense…) but I don’t remember it now. Fortunately, our nights were quiet. Guess in a family campground when you’re three feet from your neighbor and security comes through six times a night, things are pretty calm.
Anyhoo. There’s your PSA for the day. Stay safe while you travel, even if it means getting creative. Chances are, you’ll never need it. But those cookie sheets will just be sitting in the cupboard all night anyway. May as well give them some excitement, too, right?
