STIB Guillotine Doors, Dangerously Close

In my more than 5.5 years of parenting there have been a few close calls where danger comes so close,  dangerously close and barely misses impact, I just hug my children tighter an thank God and whatever angels out there who are looking out for my children.  Today was that day.

Image from http://www.simplybrussels.org/trip/transport

We had to go to the city to deal with bureaucratic stuff that is part of being an expat.  Coming home we have to metro and then take a quick bus.

When we finally got to our bus stop we slowly made our way to the back of the bus to get out.  Tiger was in one hand, Stella was in the other.  Tiger and I stepped out and Stella leaned to step out but it was too late, the bus doors SHUT ON HER TRUNK!

So picture this: feet, legs and butt in the bus, head and stomach outside of the bus and the bus is going to be moving any second.  I am hearing my little girl scream for help and half her body is still inside the bus.  I do what any mother would at this point and I start freaking out and gaining freakish amounts of strength to pull her out of the bus.  I manage to get one leg and then the other but her foot is still stuck and I can hear the pressure whistle that tells me the bus will soon be moving.  In a final attempt I pull, Stella's boot stays in the bus.  Also it should be noted that I was banging on the glass and screaming to get the bus to stop.  I think that is what saved her life because it go the attention of the other passengers who informed the driver.

It was then the driver opened the door.  Stella grabbed her cute little pink leather boot.

The following conversation then happened between me and the driver (also this was all in French, those lessons really paid off didn't they):

Driver: The doors are automatic I am not responsible
Me: (dagger eyes of disbelief)
Driver: It's not my fault.  It goes.  Is she okay?
Me: Stella, are you okay?
Stella: nods
Me: (more eyes of disapproval and shock)
Driver: laugh!

It was only when I got home I found a deep gash in her knee and a bruise on her leg from where the door tried to chop her in half.  She is shaken, I am shaken.  We are okay but it is not okay that that can so easily happen.  I want to fight it, I wish I could fight it, I wish I could tell someone and protest and throw a fit but I don't speak French well enough, I don't have the energy to figure out this foreign system of public transport complaints, and even if I did I doubt the effectiveness.  Instead I will focus on the extreme gratitude I have that I have a daughter who is home, safe, and in one piece.

Do me a favor will you?  Hug your someones special a little tighter tonight.