You read about children disappearing from their beds, and you never think it could happen to you. But tonight I tucked Jacob in, went to my office where the monitor is on, then got up to feed the cat and noticed the door to Jacob's bedroom was opened. He wasn't in his bed, so I assumed he'd gotten in my bed to visit with Scooby. Nope. I looked everywhere, going through the house, telling him what trouble he'd be in. I mean I looked in the freezer and the fridge, the utility closet, the cat's closet, behind the shower curtain, under my bed. I was certain my tone of voice and my threats would bring him out, but no. The back and front doors were double locked, and I was sure he didn't know how to unlock either one. Plus the alarm system was on. But when I'd exhausted every possibility, I called Jay, who came immediately with a large flashlight. He too looked through the house and called loudly. We turned Scooby loose from his bed, but he was simply enthusiastic and not much of a hunter. Finally, Jay said, "Call the police. He's not in this house. It's not that big a house." I said I should call Jordan first, did, and got the answering message. So I was standing at the kitchen phone dialing 911 when I saw a shape under the dining table. Lost child found. Jay and I both explained to him that he scared us because we love him, and I explained it long after Jay left--with my undying gratitude. I'm not sure Jacob fully understood--he kept telling me he was hiding from the bad guy, to which I responded that when he heard me calling he should have answered. Jordan was frantic, I told her everything was okay, but she said, "You call me and say it's an emergency and then it's okay." So I explained and she calmed down. Strikes me as strange that I was sort of calm throughout the whole thing, because I absolutely could not see how he could have gotten out or how someone could have gotten in to get him. But still . . .
Jacob has given me sweet kisses and wished me sweet dreams, but I'm not sure I will sleep. Too wound up.
A bit of irony: when Jordan was about Jacob's age, a good friend lived with us and one day she was alone at home with Jordan. She lost her, and went frantically through the house calling her name. The whole time, Jordan sat on a window seat in the dining room, watching Anne race back and forth and not saying a word. I think Anne assumed she was one of the kids' lifesize dolls. So now I know how she felt.
I had meant to blog about the frustration of the college football season, when I want to see the national news. Tonight all three major channels in our area carried football instead of news, and MSNBC was replaying tapes from the actual September 11--not something any of us need to relive. But I wanted to know if the Reverend Jones met with the Imam in New York, if there were more riots in Afghanistan--seems to me there was a lot more important going on in the world than football, and I get frustrated. But then, I am not and never was a fan.
Until bedtime, Jacob and I had a pleasant evening--he ate a ton of blackberries, some tomatoes and part of a turkey sandwich. Then he taste tested the muffins I plan to take to the new neighbors tomorrow. And he went to bed so easily. I thought I was home free. Guess not.