On a Streak

So I went out a couple mornings ago to put some mail in the box. Piper, who can now operate doorknobs as well as any adult, opened the front door and ran out behind me. This has become a ritual for us most mornings. She runs outside, I shoo her back in. Except this particular morning, she had no clothes on. At all.

She ran (naked) around the driveway, giggling madly, and I chased after her, holding up my too-loose yoga pants so the neighbors didn't get the mother-daughter full moon package. Who really wants to see THAT at 7:30 in the morning?

She continued to run (naked) around the driveway and then started to run (still naked) down the sidewalk. She's a fast little bugger these days, and she got one house ahead of me as I changed direction and called out for her to come back. Telling her "hey, get back here!" only made her run faster. I saw a car cruising slowly down the street - like r-e-e-e-a-l-l-l-l-y slow - and wondered if they were creeps or just laughing at a wild-haired woman chasing a naked toddler down the street. The car got a little closer and I realized it was a police car.

Which meant that I was chasing a totally naked kid down the sidewalk, wearing the faded t-shirt and yoga pants I'd slept in, with uncombed hair, yelling "You GET BACK HERE! Stop laughing, it's not funny! I MEAN IT!" in front of our neighborhood police officers.

I wondered how many city ordinances I was breaking at that moment.

I caught up to Piper, who was laughing like this was the funniest thing that had ever happened. I scooped her up, blew a big raspberry on her belly, and carried her back toward the house. The police car, which had slowed even further for a moment, sped up as it passed us. I turned and waved before I shut the front door.