a mini-van and someone else's life

Late one night I find myself trying to manouver an unfamiliar mini-van through the city streets after receiving a panicked phone call from a friend going into labour.

Nervous and high on adrenaline, I put all my effort into projecting calm and cheerfulness for the benefit of the three small children staring at me shyly from the back seat. I'm a half-stranger to them and the situation must be even weirder for them, after hearing their mother gasp in pain and their father give me hurried instructions.

As I try to figure out the car and navigate vaguely remembered roads to find their grandparents' house, I feel oddly elated. This is like taking a peek at someone else's life. Like being a mother. Is this something I have missed out on?

It's oddly satisfying, being responsible for three small lives. On the other hand, it's nice to be the one that can be called on to sort out a crisis at a moment's notice.