Before I became a mammy I secretly judged parents who put their kids in harnesses because you think you know it all, how wrong was I? Foolishly I believed it was lazy parenting, like how hard is it to teach a child the rules of the road and to hold your hand.
And then I had Frankie.
The runner. The wild child. He’s a typical get your hands mucky outdoorsy kid, he loves to explore and he LOVES anything with an engine. He would happily sit in the middle of the road to watch them all day long. Bin lorries, artic’s and fire trucks make him weak. If we were walking without his harness he would be gone in a heart beat chasing them down road without hesitation cause he’s a baby and doesn’t fully understand the dangers or rules of the road.
Last weekend as we strolled through my local shopping centre monkey harness included some auld wan with her big mouth muttered to her friend that it looked like I was walking a dog. Normally I let things go over my head and laugh it off but this time I couldn’t. I was so tempted to go over and give her a piece of my mind but before I knew I was asking the boy ‘what does the wow-wow say’. And we woofed and woofed right past her, while I laughed like an insane person. I awarded him with a McDonald’s ice-cream for his performance.
Harnesses rock. They give him independence and I get piece of mind. I know where he is at all times. I could keep him locked up screaming in the buggy to get out all day every day, let him run riot or keep him safe by side the aid of his monkey reins. They protect him, they are invaluable in keeping my boy safe and one things for certain he does not look like a dog with them on.