Upon returning from a walk with the dog, I came into the house with my 19 month old daughter, and headed straight for the bathroom.
It's all the water I drink on those walks.
I was yapping on the phone to my BFF and my daughter was wandering around the house, as she does.
I soon realized, I did not hear her.
Which quickly became, I could not find her.
I look at the patio door, and find that it is open a cat's width (to allow them free access while we were gone) and suddenly panic grips my heart.
In my rational mind, I am thinking, there is no way on God's green earth she could've squeezed through that space.
In my child-abduction mind, I am thinking, she squeezed out and is now in the back seat of a 1979 Chevelle, hurtling towards I-76 and I am never going to see her face again.
In my rational mind, I am thinking, even if she did squeeze out, how would she get the gate to the fence open?
In my child-abduction mind, I am thinking she squeezed out of the same spots the dog squeezes out of.
I race outside with the dog, who, mind you, is going nuts. I think she is trying to do a Lassie, and alert me to my daughter's location.
Together we are running all over the backyard, the pallets, the pavers, the JUNK that is all over the place, I am cursing my out-of-shape body that I am so winded and not in the best physical condition to locate a missing child.
I am wimpering into the phone to tell my BFF to get over here and help me find her like NOW!!! because I really can't find her.
I check the bathroom in the man cave and can not open the door because the bottom drawer of the basin is open.
In my rational mind, I'm thinking, someone has got to be in that bathroom to open the drawer.
In my child-abduction mind, the cats have gotten in there and have opened the drawer and are sleeping comfortably while my baby is missing and gone across two state lines.
I check under every bed, closet, opening, portal, calling and calling and calling and SILENCE.
You know the feeling that your house is EMPTY ... well, that's the feeling I had.
I call 911.
As I am on with dispatch explaining the severity of the situation: my daughter has been missing for 3-5 minutes, the patio door was open, and I fear she's been abducted out of my yard, I check that man cave bathroom one. last. time.
As I am screaming her name into the bathroom, I suddenly see four wee fingers grasping the edge of the door, and pulling it inward.
And the biggest smile on her pudgy little face.
And that's when I burst into uncontrollable sobs, because she's here. She's here. She's here. She's here. I found her. She's here.
I have never felt such terror in my life (except the time my son went to play with the next door neighbor's kids and neglected to tell me and I couldn't find him either and nearly called 911 but called the neighbor instead -just in case- and he said, yes, he's here and I wanted to strangle him) and I never ever want to feel that terror again.
And yes, I already know I am a horrible mother, but thanks for asking.
What's the scariest thing your kids ever did to you or when have you been forced to call 911 but hopefully for a silly thing and not for something horrible and depressing.