And the eyes have it

Day seven:  The lost boy

Day seven's post is essentially a continuation of day six.

My youngest son and I had an incident today while shopping which very nicely illustrates the point I was trying to make in my last post.

Parenting is painful.

Today's hurt brought to you by:  irresponsible mothering and a very naughty four year old who, by the way, is incredibly handsome with big blue eyes and even bigger eyelashes and is my baby and therefore can do just about anything he wants.

I may have sort of accidentally misplaced him at the store today.  But it was only for like 8 minutes. 

Like YOU have never done that.

When I realized he had disappeared, I sent his three older, more obedient siblings out on search party duty.  It quickly became apparent that it was time for mommy to panic.   And panic she did.  

Of course, it wasn't until I had combed every last inch of the store for several terrifying, stroke-inducing minutes that I found him, with one of the store clerks, near the front entrance.  Isn't that always the way it goes?  The lost kid is always in the last place you look.  The woman was obviously interrogating him, but for once he was minding his mother and refusing to talk to any stranger who endeavored to try and help him.  

Upon further investigation, I found out that he had first been spotted in the electronics section, crying and looking lost.  Keep in mind, this was the opposite end of the store from where the rest of his family was shopping.  The next sighting was...

...wait for it...

...wait for it...

...wait for it...

In. The. PARKING LOT!  A nice man (thank you, Lord, for letting that man NOT be a homicidal pedophile), had found him wandering around outside--on a SATURDAY--busiest day of the week--looking for his mommy.  He was kind enough to bring him inside and alert the store employees.  

This kid is like a foot tall, for crying out loud!  And weaving in and out of weekend shopper traffic like a midget with a death wish!  

Guardian angels saved him in the parking lot.  But once he got inside and his mommy got a hold of him, it was those big, blue eyes that saved him from a good neck wringing.  Mommy was more interested in hugging his neck at that point.  Score another one for the peepers.

Rest assured, the boy got a good talking-to about all of this when he got home.  When I finished my rant and ended it with the million dollar question, "GOT IT?" he promptly looked up at me with his baby blues and responded with a very timid, "got it."   

He's now sitting at the counter blissfully enjoying a bowl of homemade ice cream.  He deserves a treat.  He had a hard day after all.

Sorry I'm not sorry.  Scratch that.  For this one, I AM sorry.  I hope the little man won't need TOO much more therapy after the events of today.  Maybe we'll get the group rate.