Where the Heck is My Baby?
My oldest is eleven now but I remember clearly thinking, “Where’s my baby? Where the heck is my baby? She was just here.”
I whirled my head, scanned the storefronts in the mall for my two year old, whirled some more, glanced down the aisles of the Hallmark store, glared at the suddenly ominous looking strangers passing by, and looked up the down escalator and down the up one.
“Where the heck is my baby?” I panicked – until I realized I’d been holding her in my arms, her head on my shoulder. I looked down at her perfectly calm face. She smiled up at me and said, “Hi Dad.”
OK. I found her. Take a deep breath. Everything is alright.