That One Time I Lost my Son in the City..
I think it is fair to say that I have sheltered my kids a bit. We are big on seat-belts, stay far away from skateboards (example: 2 broken teeth from a "Heelie's" incident 10 years ago) and rule following. And although we can navigate our way around a different country relatively easy, we are not big "city folk" in our little farm town of Snohomish. But when we travel we like to be adventurous and as long as we are all together and I can keep track of my little bubble of people, we manage to explore and find our way around just fine.
So when we visited Washington D.C. I thought I had it all under control...Mama P, calm, cool and collected.
We had explored the beautiful city for a week after visiting family in Boston, taking in all of the sites, submersing ourselves in the deep culture of our great nation. We toured all of the Smithsonian museums, had a private tour of the White House and felt deeply moved by our experiences at the Holocaust Museum and Arlington National Cemetery. It was all wonderful.
While we could walk everywhere in the city, we needed to rent a car for a day so we could drive to George Washington's estate in Mt. Vernon. Washington D.C. consists of a great subway rail system taking you anywhere in the city very easily so Steve took the subway a few stops away to pick up the rental car and then went and picked us up at our hotel. We had a fabulous day there. We toured G-Dubs incredible home, walked the beautiful grounds, paid homage at his tomb and had a gorgeous drive through beautiful Mt. Vernon. It was a lovely day, I tell ya. Lovely.
*Remember that I said I have sheltered my kids....
Steve dropped Brady, Ella and I off at our hotel and he and Drew drove the rental car back and were going to just jump on the train and head back to our hotel which was a few city blocks away from the subway station. Easy Peasy. One and Done.
*Another reminder that I, Mama P shelters the bejesus out of my kids...
So B, E and I had just gotten back to our room (my phone was at 2% battery life left) and I get a call from Steve screaming "Get to Farragut Station right away. The subway doors closed on me and Drew is on the train by himself!". I thought he was joking because anyone who knows me knows that I am the most gullible person on the planet and that would be just what my husband would do to play a fast one on me. I quickly realized that he was not joking and then he even more quickly realized just how fast his wife can lose her ever-lovin' mind.
Here is what played in my head as we were loping our hooves what seemed to be 47 miles to the train station (with a dead cell phone, I add for effect): My sweet, innocent, sheltered little boy would be traveling on the train for days, perhaps weeks until he met a very mothering, toothless meth-head who would take him under her wing only to sell him for a quick hit to child-slave operation, locked in a box under a house with only a saltine and a tin can of water to eat and drink and we would never see him again until he resurfaces years later, sells his story to the tabloids about how his parents abandoned him in a dark subway years earlier.
It was bound to happen...I was sure of it.
We got to the train station and I realized in my frazzled out-of-body mind that I left my wallet back at the hotel so I couldn't pay for us to get into the station so I run to the help desk yelling in some gibberish language I'm not even sure exists pleading with them to let us into the station because my poor child is lost on the train somewhere in the city. The woman at the desk saw what appeared to be some possessed woman with her head spinning around, speaking in a mix of Botswanan, Tongan and perhaps a bit of Scottish thrown in for good measure and must have thought I would throat punch her if she didn't let us through so she graciously opened the gate for us.
We flew down the escalator....
Ran down the terminal with my head frantically going from window to window on every train.....
Screaming to make sure Brady and Ella stayed with me because it would suck to lose 2 kids in 1 day...
Believing my little boy was never going to be found again....
Already grieving that our family was down a member...
Envisioning milk cartons at the grocery store with Drew's missing mug on the side...
Except, there he was, standing at the terminal waiting for us as if he, like, knew what he was doing or something. After embracing him in relief and my heart went back to beating properly and the possessed devil freed itself from my body, we made our way up the escalator and I looked at the woman at the help desk and shouted, "WE FOUND HIM!". She looked at me and smiled and then I saw the smile fade as she, ever so slowly, craned her neck UP to see this "child" who was 6 feet tall standing next to me.
I feel this is an important part of the story to let you all know that he was 15 at the time.
People say I have a flair for the dramatics....I don't see it.
Keep it real, my friends,
Mama P
So when we visited Washington D.C. I thought I had it all under control...Mama P, calm, cool and collected.
We had explored the beautiful city for a week after visiting family in Boston, taking in all of the sites, submersing ourselves in the deep culture of our great nation. We toured all of the Smithsonian museums, had a private tour of the White House and felt deeply moved by our experiences at the Holocaust Museum and Arlington National Cemetery. It was all wonderful.
While we could walk everywhere in the city, we needed to rent a car for a day so we could drive to George Washington's estate in Mt. Vernon. Washington D.C. consists of a great subway rail system taking you anywhere in the city very easily so Steve took the subway a few stops away to pick up the rental car and then went and picked us up at our hotel. We had a fabulous day there. We toured G-Dubs incredible home, walked the beautiful grounds, paid homage at his tomb and had a gorgeous drive through beautiful Mt. Vernon. It was a lovely day, I tell ya. Lovely.
*Remember that I said I have sheltered my kids....
Steve dropped Brady, Ella and I off at our hotel and he and Drew drove the rental car back and were going to just jump on the train and head back to our hotel which was a few city blocks away from the subway station. Easy Peasy. One and Done.
*Another reminder that I, Mama P shelters the bejesus out of my kids...
So B, E and I had just gotten back to our room (my phone was at 2% battery life left) and I get a call from Steve screaming "Get to Farragut Station right away. The subway doors closed on me and Drew is on the train by himself!". I thought he was joking because anyone who knows me knows that I am the most gullible person on the planet and that would be just what my husband would do to play a fast one on me. I quickly realized that he was not joking and then he even more quickly realized just how fast his wife can lose her ever-lovin' mind.
Here is what played in my head as we were loping our hooves what seemed to be 47 miles to the train station (with a dead cell phone, I add for effect): My sweet, innocent, sheltered little boy would be traveling on the train for days, perhaps weeks until he met a very mothering, toothless meth-head who would take him under her wing only to sell him for a quick hit to child-slave operation, locked in a box under a house with only a saltine and a tin can of water to eat and drink and we would never see him again until he resurfaces years later, sells his story to the tabloids about how his parents abandoned him in a dark subway years earlier.
It was bound to happen...I was sure of it.
We got to the train station and I realized in my frazzled out-of-body mind that I left my wallet back at the hotel so I couldn't pay for us to get into the station so I run to the help desk yelling in some gibberish language I'm not even sure exists pleading with them to let us into the station because my poor child is lost on the train somewhere in the city. The woman at the desk saw what appeared to be some possessed woman with her head spinning around, speaking in a mix of Botswanan, Tongan and perhaps a bit of Scottish thrown in for good measure and must have thought I would throat punch her if she didn't let us through so she graciously opened the gate for us.
We flew down the escalator....
Ran down the terminal with my head frantically going from window to window on every train.....
Screaming to make sure Brady and Ella stayed with me because it would suck to lose 2 kids in 1 day...
Believing my little boy was never going to be found again....
Already grieving that our family was down a member...
Envisioning milk cartons at the grocery store with Drew's missing mug on the side...
Except, there he was, standing at the terminal waiting for us as if he, like, knew what he was doing or something. After embracing him in relief and my heart went back to beating properly and the possessed devil freed itself from my body, we made our way up the escalator and I looked at the woman at the help desk and shouted, "WE FOUND HIM!". She looked at me and smiled and then I saw the smile fade as she, ever so slowly, craned her neck UP to see this "child" who was 6 feet tall standing next to me.
I feel this is an important part of the story to let you all know that he was 15 at the time.
People say I have a flair for the dramatics....I don't see it.
Keep it real, my friends,
Mama P
Oh my goodness! That was hilarious! 15! Girl, I almost peed my pants laughing.
ReplyDeleteI wish it was an exaggerated story...but, alas it is not 😂
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