When our children were small, we once went to the Texas Folklife Festival in San Antonio . It's an interesting mixture of cultural and commercial exhibits (and it is still going on, for the 43rd year). Our little family was wandering through the heavy crowd, moving from exhibit to exhibit, when Barb, Rob and I stopped to look at some display. Julie, probably all of 3 years of age, didn't see us stop and kept right on walking. We were engrossed in whatever, and didn't see her leave. Until we got ready to move on, and suddenly we were in full Parent-Panic mode. Our child was missing!
We began frantically searching in the crowd, jostling people in the process, and calling her name. After a few minutes of terror we saw her - sitting calmly on the shoulder of a policeman, who had lifted her up so she could have a better view as they searched for her missing Mommy and Daddy!
I was reminded that I, too, as an infant had been a lost child - but in my case, I never knew it. My parents, each thinking I was with the other party, arrived home from church one night to discover that I had not made the trip. Rushing back to the now dark and locked church building, they found me right where they had left me. Asleep on a pew. Not for the last time, I might add.
Alas, even though we are a few days shy of the Equinox, I think it is safe to say Summer is here. Heat, Humidity, and blood-sucking insects. Sigh.
Saw something on Facebook the other day that I really relate to:
"If my body is ever found dead on a jogging trail, just know that I was murdered elsewhere and dumped there."
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