I'm Walkin' Here!

I have this latent impulse, when I come to a curb and prepare to step into a crosswalk, to stick my hand down below my waist and wait for a little hand to reach up to mine before I proceed. It has been a very long time since this was a matter of survival. My son has become quite accustomed, at sixteen years of age, to look both ways before crossing the street. He has become very adept at all manner of things since he was wobbling around on those fresh legs of his, getting used to gravity as well as oncoming traffic. Still, I'm somebody's dad and it's part of the programming.
How long has it been since I needed to take my son's hand as we crossed the street together? I can't pinpoint an exact moment, but I do know that we both found ourselves doing it primarily out of instinct even after he was fully cognizant of the challenges facing him outside those little white lines. I do know that ever since we started running together, plugged into our personal streams of music, that we haven't felt the need to cling to one another as we made our way around the block and back.
Now here's the thing: Last week as we went out together, earbuds in place and dog on the leash, I told him that I was going to lead him on a little longer route than usual. I wanted him to throw off some of that summer vacation lethargy. This worked just fine, and soon we were well into our first mile when I found myself across the intersection with the dog but no son. When I looked back, I saw him pointing at the signal. It was still green. I waited until the light cycled through again and he crossed to meet me.
"Why didn't you come over? The light was green," then I had a thought, "Was it the red arrow that kept you? That's just for cars turning left. You can still cross the street when that's red."
My son let out a sigh that told me I clearly misunderstood, "Dad, I stopped because there was a 'Don't Walk' signal."
Busted. I had chugged blithely along paying the minimum attention to the details of pedestrian etiquette. I started to blather something about how you could still get away with it as long as you were in the crosswalk and -
"Ever since I started taking Driver's Ed I've been much more aware of traffic regulations, Dad."
Busted. "You're right," I told him. "I should have waited."
I let him lead the way home.