We thought we had lost Lawrence last night. We put him to bed and he was taking forever to go to sleep. Sometime after 8:00 I went into his room to sternly tell him to go to sleep, only to find that his bed was empty. I assumed that he was either hiding or getting a toy, but after a quick search of all the possible hiding places, couldn’t find him. Went outside and started calling. No Lawrence.
At some point I got George involved and he started looking. After a few minutes he called 911. When I was outside some women walking by volunteered to look and one of our neighbors came over to help us look.
Ten or so minutes later, I was checking the house and all of our 254 closets again, of course way past frantic at this point, sobbing his name, and I see him way back in the front closet, knees drawn up. Actually, I didn’t see him, just a piece of his pajama top.
I touched him to make sure it was really him, and then ran outside to tell the people searching, and the police pulled up right then. As I was telling them that we had found him, Lawrence started crying as the severity of the situation began to hit him.
I did warn him that he’d better not think of this as a good way to get a real live police office to the house. He must have been really freaked out, since he didn’t even try to ask the police officer any of the types of questions I’m sure he’s been dying to ask a police officer.
We think it had something to do with him starting school today, and I had also given him some cold medicine since he still was having trouble breathing from the cold he came down with a couple of days ago.
I’ve decided that those GPS tracking devices sound like a pretty good idea at this point.
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