Things were hectic here last night. Well, the ‘hectic’ part wasn’t exactly right HERE, but let me just say that sometimes things happen THERE that make HERE, hectic.

My son lives about thirty miles away. He’s a college student, and is working part-time to pay the bills. Last night, his co-worker needed to leave a little early for some family business, so Zappa told him to go ahead, no problem. That left Zappa there alone.

Less than an hour after the co-worker left, Zappa was confronted by a masked man, had a gun thrust into his face, and the store was robbed.

Fortunately, a customer pulled up out in the parking lot, so after grabbing the cash, the gunman ran out the door in a panic. The customer saw a masked man with a gun running out of the store, and hurriedly drove away. I’m angry with him, too; why didn’t he go inside to see if anyone was hurt? Coward. Creep. Jerk. Etc.

Zappa called the police, and then he called the boss. Apparently a guy fitting this description and disguise had been hitting businesses all over that side of the city. The boss arrived, closed the store, and drove Zappa home.

We drove up and brought him back here. He’s still sleeping, downstairs in the family room.

I asked him if he was scared, and he said that actually, he hadn’t had time to be scared. Just robotic. Store policies everywhere tell employees NOT to put up any kind of fight, just to hand over the cash and hope they don’t get shot. That’s pretty much what he did. He didn’t get shot.

But he had a gun pointed at his face. Some lousy petty criminal put a gun to my child’s face.

I’m going to keep a close eye on him today. He might be 24 years old, but he’s still my baby boy, and some TOTAL BASTARD put a GUN to his little freckly face last night.

And sometimes I really wish I were a MOTHER GRIZZLY BEAR so I could tower over anything, ANYTHING, and anyone, ANYONE, who dared lay a violent hand in any way on my child, or anyone else’s child, and just RIP THEM TO SHREDS with my long sharp claws.

Because, you know, that’s what such a person would deserve. Yes, and worse than that, too.

I suppose my reaction is just another example of the violence inherent in the system, but it’s how I’m feeling right now. I want my children to be safe from monsters. Yes, and your child, and your child, and yours, and yours, and yours, too. I’d extend it to protect poor exploited Teri Shiavo from that money-grubbing adulterous greedy murderer who is her husband and his shack-up breeder girlfriend, if I could. And the judge who ordered her feeding tube removed. And all the other monsters in human form.

I am Mother. Hear me roar.