Last Friday the 7 year old got “lost” while visiting my brother. I say “lost” because it was for such a brief period of time that she was the only one that knew she was lost. Does that even count? To her, it does, I’m sure. Poor baby had run out of my brother’s backyard to chase the dog [who was chasing a squirrel, who swallowed a cat to catch the bird...oh, wait...] wound up on the street behind Uncle Mikey’s house and got disoriented. So she approached a safe-looking lady and said “My name is Katie and I am visiting my uncle who lives near here but now I am lost. Can you help me find my Mommy?” So the nice lady called the police… and 30 seconds later, three of us come flying out of the yard, shouting for kid and dog…and see them both 50 yards up the street… The neighbor explained what happened (minus the phoning the police part) and we said thank you, thank you, and started to walk home. So I was pretty surprised when a police car pulled up next to me to see if everything was ok. I said it was. You’ll be happy to know he didn’t just take my word for it, he asked my sister-in-law — who was standing next to me — if the child I was carrying really belonged to me. Anyway — crisis averted…yay for my nephew who came inside to tell us that Miss Dog had escaped and Miss Thing had run after her. Yay for Miss Thing for asking a safe-looking grown up for help. Yay for Miss Dog for coming back when she was called. Yay for Miss Thing for figuring out that next time she should get a grownup before chasing after Miss Dog [Because KC has tags with our phone number on it...but I don't have any tags, right, Mommy?"]
It made a good story to share with DH later that night when we called to say goodnight (he had to work and couldn’t leave The ‘Shire.) A few hours later I got an email from DH… it seems that he, too, is vying for the title of Poet Laureate of the family. He said:
Just in case our young Poet hasn’t yet begun to reflect on another weekend adventure…
Running running into the street
after the dog with fleet feet
Turn around and house is gone
Mommy?
It says a lot about my family that my brother, SIL and I all burst out laughing while my mom was appropriately horrified and said “That’s SICK.”
My beloved SIL’s humor is always consistent. He’s a magna cum laude graduate of “The Far Side” school of thought, and after fifteen years, I’m used to it.
By: mom on April 25, 2011
at 10:33 pm