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Oh no! I misplaced my kids in a crowd. Here’s what I discovered.
By Lisa Hargrove
May 9, 2022
It all unfolded at the theater. My children and I had just enjoyed a lively 90-minute performance of Peter Rabbit when my 10-year-old announced he needed to use the restroom. I mentioned there would likely be a long line, and since we were headed to the library next door, I suggested he go there instead. Looking back, I realize I should have ensured we were all on the same page before diverting my attention. While I was busy gathering our belongings and holding my four-year-old’s hand, my older son and his middle brother slipped away downstairs. By the time we reached the bustling foyer, they had vanished.
I didn’t feel panic; instead, I proceeded to the library while scanning the street, slightly irritated rather than anxious. We checked the men’s restroom upstairs, but my youngest peeked in and found it empty.
I made my way to the holds section, our usual first stop for picking up books. They weren’t there, so I left a note with our holds instructing them to STAY PUT! I mentioned I would check the theater and be back. As we exited the library, I whispered a quick prayer.
Remembering to turn on my phone, which had been on airplane mode during the show, I was relieved when it began to ring. As I entered the foyer, I spotted them: my eldest clutching the theater’s vintage telephone, his eight-year-old brother on the verge of tears, and three staff members observing the scene.
I hope the employees could see my gratitude in my smile, as I didn’t have the words to express it right then. After embracing my emotional eight-year-old, I explained that I had been searching for them at the library and then listened to their story.
My eldest revealed that after I suggested the library restroom, he had actually decided to go at the theater. He realized later that I hadn’t heard him, leading them to go on their own. Once they emerged and discovered I was missing, they sought assistance. I expressed my relief that they stuck together, asked for help, and that the middle brother remembered my phone number.
Ultimately, I found a silver lining in the experience. It only lasted about ten minutes; I never truly panicked, and they weren’t scared either. We all learned valuable lessons.
During our journey home, I made it a point to reinforce the crucial takeaways from that frightening moment (and I continued the discussion at home, during dinner, and beyond). We talked about the significance of staying together, knowing my phone number, following instructions, the importance of clear communication, and the value of asking questions and listening rather than just telling what to do.
I also quizzed the kids on my phone number. While I had previously attempted to teach it, I discovered that my eight-year-old had it memorized, but my eldest did not. “I despise memorizing numbers,” he said. “They slip out of my ears!” This got me thinking.
He needed motivation. Although the experience of getting lost was a lesson, he might still forget my number. To help him remember, I decided to add a password for the kids’ account on my computer — a number that he would need for more than just screen time.
While the memory of this event and the lessons I aimed to impart might fade, I’m confident that requiring them to enter my phone number to access the computer will help it stick.
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