This Post Has No Title II

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This weekend we were in Sam's Club stocking up for the summer. For those of you who are unfamiliar, Sam's Club is a large bulk warehouse store similar to Costco, BJs, etc. We recently got a membership to Sam's Club (it just happens to be the closest to us of those kind of stores). One thing I really like about going to this particular Sam's Club is that it is extraordinarily racially and socio-economically diverse. Anyway-- when we arrived we split up so that we could get in and out faster. I took Owen and one cart, and Braydon took Kyle and another cart. We each set off with our lists, and agreed to meet up in 30 minutes. Just as the 30 minutes ran up, and we were heading to the spot where we were to meet up with Braydon and Kyle, Owen suddenly said "Mommy, I need to go poopie on the potty!" Like any other parent fully in the throws of potty training would, I quickly parked our cart in an isle, grabbed my boy, and ran as fast as I possibly could through the huge gigantic store to find the potty. We made it in time and Owen was -- of course -- very, very proud. He said, "I need to tell Papi!!!" I said, "Yes!" And as we left the bathroom, he started excitedly running down the main center isle back to where we were to meet up. I was walking quickly following about 5-10 feet behind him. Like I said, this store is very diverse. Literally in that one walk down that center isle I consciously noted that every major racial/ethnic group in the U.S.A. was represented. As we approached about halfway down that main isle I noticed a group of five middle-age black women walking with one cart together. They seemed jovial and I was thinking that I'd bet my life that they were shopping for a graduation party of some sort. I watched as all five of them noticed Owen and then stopped their chatter to stare at him. I then watched as one of the women -- a very dark skinned black woman in a beautiful dress -- moved into Owen's path and put her hands out to physically stop him in his tracks. Stunned, Owen stopped and looked up at the woman. I was standing right behind him now. The woman looked all around (including right at me -- we even made eye contact), and then said to Owen, "Little boy, where is your mommy?" He was stunned and confused, just looking blank-faced up at her. Louder she said, "Little boy, where is your MOMMY???" The other four women stood staring down at Owen. Several people all around heard it, stopped their shopping and their conversations, and started watching. The moment seemed to be in slow motion for me. I vividly remember my boy turning his head around and looking up at me with a confused and stunned look in his eyes. I vividly remember the five black women all scanning the store in every direction. I vividly remember other shoppers silently staring. "Right here," I said as confidently and self-assuredly as I could muster. "I am his mother and I am right here." The woman took her hands off of Owen and I gently touched his head. All five of the women just stood there staring at me with blank looks. For Owen's sake I repeated it again, as calmly as possible, and with a smile on my face I looked the women in the eye, and as everyone -- including my son -- stared at me: "I am his mother and I am right here."