Trust Your Spidey-Sense!

Soccer practice is a family event for us.  I'm the kid wrangler, because my husband gets distracted by parents and coaches and whether the right teams are in their designated places.  There is a lot going on, although from a distance it may appear to be pure pandemonium.  Kids are running in forty different directions, and not always on purpose.


So Zane and I are by ourselves near the road, kicking the ball.  I notice a truck driving by the field...very...slowly.  My spidey-sense tingled, and when your spidey-sense tingles, you pay attention.  For the uninitiated, your spidey-sense is that little voice in your head that says something is not right.  Your brain is trying to help you by sending a few signals your way.  (For more information, read The Gift of Fear.)


I do what you are supposed to do in these situations, and stare at the driver boldly, and make it very obvious that I have noticed him.  The truck drives past, moving slowly away from us.  Zane and I resume our game of "tag the ball with your foot before Mama falls on her butt".  A couple of minutes later, the same blue chevy truck rolls slowly past us in the other direction. 

This time, I look even more closely at the guy behind the wheel, since his window are rolled down. He is not looking "for" someone specifically.  He's not jabbering on a cell phone.  He's just looking.  The man in his blue truck are rolling by so slowly, I could have drawn a picture, if I'd had paper and pen.  I watch him pull into the parking lot on the other side of the fields parking lot. 

He parks.

I take my son with me(I'm not leaving him by himself and I can't find his father) and we casually make our way over there. My main goal now is to get a cell phone picture of the license plate of that truck.  At first it appears that there isn't anyone in the truck.  I started to feel a little relieved. It was just a parent, and he had located his child's practice area. Still, I had to be sure, and as I got closer to the truck it became obvious that the guy was slouching in his seat.  He was staring at me from behind those sunglasses.


I stared right back, and pulled out my phone.  I kept walking until I was at the fenceline. Then I raised my phone to take a picture of the truck's license plate.  The driver started his truck up and left. He didn't even stop to put on a seatbelt.  He was in a hurry, I suppose.  Zane and I watched him drive away from the fields.  We played a rousing game of "Mama will chase you only until she needs her inhaler" until it was time to leave.  


I am not a person who overreacts to innocuous things.  However, that man was opportunistically trolling the soccer fields.  Whatever he was doing there, was not good.  When I told my husband all of this, he seemed unconcerned.  It was obvious that he thought I was being dramatic.

Was I being overly dramatic?   I don't think so.   What do you think?