One of the worst feelings in the world is that which a parent feels when they realize they can't find their child. Like when they get lost in a department store or, as in the case of our 3-year-old, Emma, in the Wynn Casino in Las Vegas (only for a couple of minutes, thankfully).
Tonight, Cherie called me as I was leaving work with a very worried tone in her voice explaining that she had let our 9-year-old, Hannah, go to a friend's house to play until 6 p.m. Apparently Hannah didn't convey that to her friend's parents, so Cherie began to worry when 6 p.m. rolled by and she hadn't heard from Hannah. She called the parents' cell phone repeatedly and continually got a busy signal. So, on my way home I drove to the girl's apartment to pick Hannah up--but, no one was there.
Shortly thereafter (thank God), a call came. It was Hannah explaining that she had actually been at the mother's boyfriend's house and that they had all gone out to dinner together. Our little girl got an earful as soon as she walked in the door. I felt a little bad for the ambush, but we had been so worried about her that our emotions just came gushing out. Fortunately, everything got worked out and Hannah appeared to understand very important lessons about personal responsibility, keeping commitments, and asking for permission to deviate from a plan settled beforehand.
Needless to say, her mother and I are so relieved that she's okay.
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