The Great Escape

10 years.

That’s how long I have until Britton starts driving.  I am already dreading it.
I got a taste of it what it will be like, this afternoon.

Poochie went missing. I told Britton and our neighbor that they could ride their bikes between our two houses looking for the Pooch. 

5 minutes later (Poochie reappears from her afternoon excursion) I peeked out the front door to check on them.  Look to the left, then down the right- no girls.

Heading back inside, I marinate steaks, water plants, give Kenley goldfish, then pop out the front door once again.

No girls.

Maybe they went back to A’s house- I’ll make the embarrassing phone call to A’s mom and ask “I don’t know where you child is Are the girls down there?”

No- they are not.  It’s been 10 minutes now.  Where could they be? Are they too old to be kidnapped? Would someone snatch TWO girls from our gated communityy in the middle of the day? If not, how far could they get on a purple princess bike and hot pink scooter? Oh, how I will them have it when they do show up. But really, seriously– where are they?

A search team comprised of a golf cart (armed with a goldfish eating 4 year old) and Acura SUV roam the surrounding blocks in search of a 6 and 8 year old.

I make one more loop back by the house and Boom- there they are in their hot pink Target sandals and rhinestoned headbands. Standing patiently at the end of the driveway.

And yes, you know I gave them (as my grandma would say) a-talkin’-to after that.

But I can’t help but dread the nights when they will be out in their cars driving to Lord knows where- while I patiently wait at home kneading my hands and chewing on Prozac.

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