So, I never thought I’d have my little brother tagging along with me at work, but here we are. He’s only six, and lately, he’s been super curious about what I actually do all day in my uniform. He asked about a hundred questions at breakfast, and before I knew it, I told him, “Alright, you wanna see what it’s really like?” I checked with my supervisor, and somehow, we made it work for a few hours.
I figured we’d just hang around the station, maybe let him meet a few folks and see the police car up close. Instead, as soon as we got outside for a break, we ended up in the middle of a situation—some neighborhood kids lost their puppy, and everyone was panicking. I was getting a dozen different stories at once, but my brother just stood there quietly, watching.
He tugs on my sleeve and says, “I think the puppy’s hiding under the old swing set. That’s where I’d go if I was scared.” The parents looked at me, I shrugged, and we checked—and sure enough, the puppy was wedged right underneath, shaking like a leaf. My brother crawled in and coaxed him out with his granola bar, calm as anything.
