Tonight we went walking with the Peterson's and our boys hung out with their kids over at their house while we were gone. (Happiness :) When we got back there were at least 11 girls standing in two groups in their drive way. What was going on? They weren't allowed in the house and so they were hanging out, outside. *Great plan ;)* At least they knew the rules and "followed" them. The girls had come over to see if Greg and Zac could play night games.
For some reason, this night, I didn't want Zac to go. I really thought it was because I felt exhausted and just wanted to go home. I didn't want to come back in a couple hours to pick him up. Jeff, on the other hand, thought it was fine, so, we let him go.
We were invited to come in, sit and visit for a while. So we did. I was some what reluctant for some reason. Like I said, I was super tired and just wanted to go home. Not to mention, their kids had school in the morning and there was work in the morning too. I was encouraged to stay and I'm glad I did.
About half an hour later some of the girls came to the front door in a panic. They were all in tears and frightened telling us that Zac and Greg were fighting with two guys at the park and that they were getting beat up. It was mentioned that the guys they were fighting with weren't "good guys."
The dads sprung into action. I went too. I'm not sure what I thought I'd accomplish, I just knew I had to get there. We didn't make it very far down the road when we saw them heading back. Steve got there first and was getting a play by play of the fight. I was just listening and then finally asked if they were okay. When Zac turned to look at me he had a dark spot on his forehead. I told him it looked like he was bleeding. He said, ya I know. Ö yikes!
Apparently, a couple guys were "harassing" the girls and Zac and Greg thought they should "protect" them. One guy got "up in Greg's face" and Greg pushed him away. That's all it took, and the fight was on. Zac couldn't just stand there and had to get involved. At one point the other guy pulled out some sort of a weapon. It was described to me as a stick with two finger holds. My friend at work said that sounded an awful lot like one of the weapons her son had only it was a small knife - not a stick. (Her son has sort of a weapon "collection" of sorts). It seems like it makes sense to me that the weapon was a small knife, because it looks like Zac got poked with it above his eyebrow.
I was scared that this had all taken place. I felt frustrated and grateful all at the same time. I felt frustrated that they had been in a fight but grateful that they were safe and okay.
All I could think of asking Zac on the way home was what did he learn from this experience? He said, "not to mess with a kid when he's that mad."
Wise words!
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