Skip to main content

Lost and Found

The next time I update my "Mother of the Decade" award application I'll have a new story to add. I think it will fit nicely after dropped infant face-first on the floor during manicure (x-rays showed no fractures), and right before turned around and saw 18-month-old pull a steak knife out of the dishwasher.

Today's heart-stopping episode took place at Macy's. I try to keep Morgan in the stroller when we shop. Not because she can't walk it but because she tends to wander off. But the stroller was full of newly tried-on clothes and she wanted to walk anyway over to check out.

The clerk was busy removing theft tabs and I was trying to read the fine print on my coupon--and she disappeared.

The first emotion is anger. When that little stinker pops out from behind a rack of clothes, she's really going to get it.

Then comes the fear that has you running up and down the aisle calling her name with increasing intensity. Managers are being called. People are staring.

The whole episode was five-ten minutes but it felt like an eternity. In my head I was already starting to have the worst conversation of my life with my husband. I began fishing around in my purse for a photo. This one will look good on TV. The manager was talking but all I heard was Cooooode Aaaaddddaaaammm.

Then it was over. Around the corner came my baby, smiling and holding hands with her new friend Amy, the clerk in menswear. A manager on a walkie was with them.


My baby hugged me and said I was worried about you Mom. Later she related how she couldn't find the path back to me and looked for a nice lady to help her. I was proud and relieved and thankful.

And like the second-generation gold card Macy's shopper that I am, I completed my transaction. It WAS a damn good coupon.


PROLOGUE: Every mother that's ever been interviewed on 20/20 has said the same thing: I only looked away for a moment. Last fall I received a free Lifelynx USB drive. It contains a program to help you store descriptions and photos of each family member. Tonight I completed it.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Happily Ever After

Last weekend, in a brief moment of remote control ownership, I tuned into basic cable and saw a very disturbing show called "Rich Bride, Poor Bride." I watched two episodes and didn't see what I would call a "poor" bride--although actually, after they blew their budgets, both brides probably did end up poor. One couple spent about $75,000. They talked her out of having live peacocks at the reception.

That makes me think about my own much simpler but very nice-for-Farmersville wedding over a decade ago. In many ways it was a disaster.

We were engaged for a year and a half; we had plenty of time to plan but fates conspired against us.

By the time we got to the week of the wedding, we had buried two people on the guest list and paid our respects to a distant uncle. One of the people we lost was my husband's grandfather who died Monday, we had visitation Wednesday, funeral Thursday, rehearsal dinner Friday, wedding Saturday. How his grandmother handled it is beyo…

I Know What you Did Last Summer

Good gravy (I have taken up saying this since Husband doesn't curse and I was the only one to blame for our household's junior potty mouths), it's Fall. And I still haven't shown you the before/during/after pictures of my kitchen update.
Before: greenish "marble" laminate counters with a yellowed fluorescent light cover--only one bulb working.
Carbon dating and a close examination of the many knife cuts evident on the laminate surface have led scientists to believe these counter tops date to the early Aquarius period or possibly late Happy Days epoch.
To save money on the almost airline-like add-ons involved in having a big box home improvement chain do this project, we removed the counter tops ourselves. I use the term ourselves very loosely, of course, in that Husband did it.
I thought we were well-prepared. Fortunately, they did not have a box on their billing slip for We Pulled out the Oven and OMGOMGOMG!! The workers even kindly looked away while I frantical…

Weekend Plans Cut Short

I haven't been at my current job long enough yet, apparently, because people still make the mistake of asking me what are you doing this weekend? I say that it is a mistake to ask me about my weekend plans because that question is supposed to be followed with an ordinary answer like going to see a movie or yardwork.
But when you ask me about my weekend plans, you're likely to get an answer like this: well, we'll be pretty busy getting ready for our pig auction. Husband has to give haircuts to 100+ pigs.
Yes, you read that right. Pigs get haircuts. Husband is grooming them for the pig auction (we call it a sale) that we are having on Saturday. In the market for a pig? Head over here.
Pigs have short, coarse hair that in days of old was used to make brushes (and maybe still today). Husband and other pig farmers clip the hair of the pigs shorter to make them look more appealing to potential buyers, who in this case are 4-H kids and parents looking for a hog to take to the count…