“Where’s C?” I asked last night as we were walking out the building. Looking around we didn’t see him, but as we walked back in the building we definitely heard him. “DAAAADDDDYYYYYYY!”
The realization quickly set in… our almost 5 year-old C didn’t get off the elevator with the rest of us. I started yelling in the hopes that C would hear me, “Press L!”
We pressed the button for the elevator. It came but when it opened up, C wasn’t in it. We could still hear him yelling, “DAAADDDYYYY!” Jeff yelled back, “Stay there, I’m coming!”
Jeff hopped in the elevator and went in search of him. I gave my oldest son a stern look as he started laughing. My middle child’s eyes were huge as he’s comprehending what’s going on. I wasn’t panicking because I knew Jeff would find him, but hearing the scared screams of your son is hard on a mom’s heart.
The next time the door opened Jeff was there with a very timid little boy. In all honesty, I can’t remember my reaction when I saw him – what I said or what I did. All I remember is a few moment’s later Jeff explained why C didn’t get out, “He was playing his DS and didn’t notice us all get out.”
AAAARRRRGGGGHHH! Those DS’s – as a mom of 3 boys, I have a love hate relationship with them. They can be a savior on a long car ride and offer some much needed quiet in our home. But they also can cause many tears – whether due to a child losing at a game or being told to turn it off. They also can cause our boys to tune out the world around them while focusing on the game at hand. Which seemed to be what happened to C in the elevator.
Often you will hear me in a parking lot or through a store saying, “No playing the DS while walking.” But really it has been one of those statements that I never followed through with any discipline or enforcement. I think I probably learned my lesson about things I’m soft on more than C learned his lesson about when to play his DS.
So what did C learn? He learned that when he yells for Daddy to save him, Daddy will come. (Its interesting that C yelled for Daddy and not me, because he really is a momma’s boy.) As I pondered that in light of pressing on I realized that is exactly what I need to do when I find myself lost, in the wrong place, or doing the wrong thing. I need to call out to my heavenly Daddy to save me.
Has anyone else lost a child in an elevator? I like to think I’m not the only one…