I bought David, my five year old, toy handcuffs.

He went with me to take his his little brother Wade to the doctor. It was a long morning. David behaved really well, but started to get bored by the time we arrived at the drug store to pick up a prescription.

We had more stops to make, so when David asked for a pair of cheap, toy handcuffs I gave in. I figured they would keep him entertained while I finished up errands.

When we got out of the mini-van at the mall David asked if he could bring the handcuffs in. I said yes. How much damage could they do?

Inside the mall I pushed Wade in the stroller, and David walked along side it.

David was still behaving well. In fact he was staying unusually close to me. Normally I need to keep a tight reign on him in public.

I noticed that people passing by us were doing double-takes, and turning back around to look.

Then I saw something shiny catch the light on the side of the stroller.

David’s handcuffs.

He chained himself to the stroller.

I was pushing a stroller through the mall with a five year old handcuffed to it.

I looked around for Child Protective Services, because I was sure they were going to show up at any minute, handcuff me, and cart me off to jail.

I knew if I told David to take them off a battle would ensue.

What looks worse? Your kid handcuffed to a stroller, or you arguing and struggling with your kid who’s handcuffed to a stroller?

When we sat down for lunch David had to take them off so he could eat. When he wasn’t looking, I stuffed them in my purse.

The handcuffs were cheap. They broke before bedtime that night.

But not before David used them to chain Wade up to the Pack-N-Play.