"Don't You Forget About Me"

Today was a day just like any other — meaning that a trip to Wal-Mart and the dump were on the dockett. Once at the dump, I hopped out and deposited our trash and recycling each in their respective receptacles, exchanged brief pleasantries with the city worker operating the compacter and jumped back in the car.

As I always do when leaving the dump (or anywhere, really) I glanced in my rear view mirror to check out Connor's disposition and also to be sure no projectiles were headed toward the back of my head.

As soon as I looked up, however, my head started to swirl.

Connor wasn't there!

In less than a second's time, I had mentally constructed several scenarios which would have enabled him to escape his carseat and exit the vehicle — almost all of which involved someone snatching him. Had he been kidnapped? Had he somehow gotten out of the car himself? Had I dumped him in the trash compactor by accident?

Oh yeah. I left him at home with Stacey's grandparents.

Dumbass.


I suppose it was a good test run. Surely we're going to have to deal with locating a lost child more than once in the coming years.