Yesterday I posted about our
Diva Gona Bad. Well, today things went from bad to worse. But before I tell you Lorelai's story, we need to rewind about 35 years to Mystery Man's story. When Mystery Man was 5 years old, he woke up early one morning and decided he wanted to go to his favorite park, which was a few miles away. Mystery Man took a tricycle along, pushing it almost 3 miles from home. Eventually a man stopped him, determined he was alone, bought him an ice cream cone, and took him to the police station, who then called his parents.
Well, like father like daughter, right? Today, while cleaning up from lunch, I realized I hadn't seen Lorelai for at least 10 minutes. Silas was at home, as well, since it's Spring Break (the other boys were at a Lego Workshop). Silas and I spent several minutes calling for Lorelai all over the house and yard. No response. I went to the neighbors; she wasn't there. Silas rode his bike all the way up our street to the cul-de-sac, turned around and came back to report she wasn't on the street (note: we live in a rural subdivision with 10 houses. Our quiet street connects to another rural road where cars drive 45+ mph). I quickly put Jane in bed so I could search without worrying about anyone else; I collected all the phone numbers of the neighbors, then slid to my knees and said a prayer that Lorelai would be protected and safe. I had a feeling she was fine, but it was rather uncanny that we couldn't find her ANYWHERE! I was panicked!
Just as I was about to leave the house again, the phone rang and a woman on the other end said, "I live in the area and your daughter is at my house." I told her I'd be right there. I drove 1/4 mile down the road to a dairy farm where I saw Lorelai standing outside with 2 adults, 2 kids, and the County Sheriff. Nice. The family described their experience: "
We had just sat down for lunch, when we saw a little girl walking along the road, wearing a backpack. We figured an adult would shortly appear behind her, but no adults came. As she rounded the curve, we decided to stop her. She refused to tell us her name because we were strangers. She did say she was walking to school. Eventually we convinced her to tell us her last name and we called you." Lorelai crumpled into tears as soon as I arrived. The nice family gave her a cinnamon roll. The policeman said this kind of thing happens all the time and I shouldn't feel too bad about it. I asked Lorelai why she was walking to school. She said, "
I picked two flowers for Miss Linda and I wanted to give them to her." Oh. Of course. After we arrived back home, I decided I'd better take a picture; I told her this picture would always help her remember that she could never leave the house alone anymore. (note: flip flops... she was going to walk 2 miles in flip flops?)
Needless to say, I explained multiple times that she must never leave our yard again without a parent. And she'll be going to bed early tonight. She was very remorseful and drew me a picture and tearfully said, "I drew you this picture so you know I'm sorry." It says, "Mom, I love you."
I'm starting to wonder what the next 14 years of parenting are going to bring? And I find it interesting that none of our boys ever pulled anything like this; aren't girls supposed to be easier? At least before they become teenagers?
