When Intuition Speaks and You Stay Silent

I’m on a mission to recognize when my intuition is calling—and to actually respond to the call to action. I missed an opportunity yesterday.

I was at the splashpad with my kid, sitting on the sidelines, on the grass, observing while she played independently. I’m so glad for this stage where she’s more independent so my tired ass can just plop down and supervise from a distance!

Anyway, there I was, watching my kid and minding my business, when I see a child—probably a little over one—wandering away from the splashpad, heading toward the public washroom, which wasn’t too far from the road. My spidey senses kicked in. As I clocked the child, I started scanning the crowd for a potential parent who was hopefully also watching.

The kid kept going, and I kept scanning, all while noting how far she was getting. I could feel other parents watching too—scanning the crowd, wondering the same thing: is someone supervising this baby?

She walked toward the washroom where a woman was standing—looked like she was waiting for her own kid to finish up. As she saw the toddler approaching, she went inside the washroom and closed the door (I’m assuming to prevent the kid from wandering in). Now the toddler was heading toward the road—still no parent in sight.

This is when my intuition was screaming at me to act. To override the bystander effect. To grab the child and keep her safe while hopefully jolting the parent into action. I took one last scan—and finally saw a woman running frantically toward the child. She scooped her up and walked back to the splashpad. Crisis averted.

I quietly judged her. Dubbed her negligent for letting a toddler wander that far without noticing.

But the scene stuck with me. I’m still sitting with it. Still reflecting on my own role.

I’m disappointed in myself. I didn’t intervene. I should have. I should’ve stepped in before the kid got to the washroom. I should’ve overridden the belief that someone else would handle it, or that the parent would notice, or—worse—that it wasn’t my business.

I should’ve acted. That was the responsible thing to do.

And really, as parents sitting around watching our kids play, aren’t we kind of all agreeing—without saying it—that we’re watching all the kids? Making sure no one gets hurt? Aren’t we taking care of each other’s children, even if just a little?

If a parent gets distracted—like this mom probably did, maybe with another child (I think she had an infant with her)—is it too much to expect that another parent might keep an eye out in the meantime?

As a parent, I want other parents to watch my kid when I can’t. I can’t see everything. I can get distracted. I can miss something. I can daydream. If that had been my child, I would’ve wanted someone to intervene. To redirect her. To get my attention. To help me keep her safe.

Not just stand there.

I need to listen to my intuition and act on it. I need to do the right thing—especially if it’s something I’d want someone else to do for me. But even more so because we all have a responsibility to keep children safe.

Especially in public spaces where it’s impossible to be everywhere and see everything all at once.