Alternate Title: The One Where I Lost A Kid
Our evening ritual is controlled chaos. Dinner finishes too late. Baths & showers are sometimes squeezed in before brushing teeth, getting pajamas and tucking the girls into bed. Typically, one of usI will finish work or clean up dinner while the other supervises the bedtime process.
Once the girls are tucked into the bed, the second parent heads up for the 2nd tuck-in. They require both of us, if we’re home, or they stall, pop downstairs and yell out until we have both hugged, kissed & tucked them in.
The other night, they were silent before the hubby had made it back downstairs to me. So, I continued working rather than risk waking them. When I headed upstairs for my nightly bubble bath, I peeked in on the girls. And found one less than we should have had.
I checked under the covers, under the bed, in her sisters’ beds & our room before asking for help locating Lorelai. I was only mildly panicked—the house was quiet, and wasn’t like we had heard anything unusual. Still, finding a child missing is rather disconcerting.
She was finally located—sound asleep—in the closet. Where we left her overnight. The next morning, I asked her why she slept in the closet. Her response? “I didn’t, Momma! I was just waiting to surprise you when you tucked us in.”
Which I didn’t do at all. FAIL
