Friday, August 8, 2008
You know the scene if you have kids, have every been around kids, or know a kid. You pick up the phone and all BLEEP breaks out. I was trying to have a five minute conversation about a really cool party we're going to go to this weekend where we'll all have tons of fun and pig out on your typical party fare. As SOON as I begin talking to my friend, A, about it...my three youngest go to screamin' and kickin' and fallin' out over a marble game. I send them to their rooms so I could finish in peace.
Phone call ends. I talk to the neighbor awhile. Fold some laundry. Call the punks out of their rooms and serve a snack.
I don't know.
Someone must have seen him. Go tell him his snack is ready.
He's not there.
What? Where could he be? Did he pack his little hanky full of arm men, tie it on the end of a stick, and make a break for it? I think not.
So I search. He's not in the room - although for all of the toys and junk lying about he could have been and I may have missed him. I look in all of the rooms, walk around the outside of the house. Check for his bike. Not in the car (thank goodness - it's hot out). Maybe I missed him on the first sweep through the trashed room. Look again. Not there.
Hmmm. Strange how the new "MP" (i.e. tiny radio with headphones that came for free with his new shirt - not a real MP3 player) was hanging out from under the bed.
There he is. Isn't he cute? Asleep with music blaring in his ears. But cute. By the way - the new shirt says, "My Mom Rocks!"