I know I promised but I’ll post about the Cruella Conundrum tomorrow … I need to blog this first.
Stitch caused a YMCA lockdown today. No one could leave with any child until we found Stitch. It lasted less than a minute and it was one of the longest minutes I have ever lived through.
How did I, the most paranoid woman to have ever lived, lose track? It was the Halloween Party’s fault. The festivities were in the small gym right next to Stitch’s class. After the wrap-up, I told Stitch we were going to eat lunch now, and we needed to get her backpack. She runs out of the gym and (I thought) into her classroom for her backpack. There is a gaggle of parents just outside the door of the classroom and children milling around so it takes me a minute to figure out that Stitch is NOT in the room. She’s not in the hall. Where. The. Fuck. Is. My. Baby. Other parents are looking around while clutching their kids (don’t blame them) and the teacher calls an immediate lockdown. All staff come boiling out of there offices or stations to help. But I am frantic.
It occurs to me (nanoseconds have gone by but they felt like eons) that she went straight back to the little lunch area. So I head down the hall for the lunch area. I am not calling Stitch’s name. I am not yelling Stitch’s name. I am not hollering Stitch’s name. No. I am Fokking Screaming her name at the top of my Fokking lungs. People parted before me like the Red Sea and even flattened against the walls to get out of my way. But does she answer me? No. She was afraid I was mad, so she was quiet. It’s her go-to defense when she’s in trouble for naughtiness.
Thank Christ, all his saints, and anyone else in any pantheon who wants some gratitude – Stitch was in the lunch area. The YMCA was taken off red alert. Peace and harmony filled the building. I kissed Stich and threatened to beat her like a drum if she EVER scared me like that again. All was well.
Now if I can just stop shaking and crying.