Friday, April 19, 2013

Theater

Mrs. Drama: "I apologize for being late. It's been an awful day. I lost my son this morning."

Dr. Grumpy: "Oh, that's terrible. I'm so sorry."

Mrs. Drama: "It's okay. We eventually found him playing games at the arcade."

14 comments:

Packer said...

and then it got worse, we found the little.....who scared the crap out of us, so we slapped him silly.

Ah, the joys of parenthood. This story made me laugh, as I Remember the time my son crawled under a dress rack in a store and stood up in the center ring and stayed there for 15 minutes as everyone in the place ran around yelling his name, eventually he came out laughing.

The laughter was short lived.

bunkywise said...

Love Packer's story and I do admire the little guy's sense of humor. I remember thinking it was funny when as a kid, I was in the backseat of the car and put my hands over my driving dad's eyes, while yelling "Guess who?" He didn't see the humor, either.

Ms. Donna said...

Surprised the Grumpy Tribe has not pulled this.

My son pulled this when we were in a strange city (note to Moms: Make sure your video-game loving kid has NO quarters in his/her possession. Pure terror.

And my sister darted into a NYC elevator just as the doors closed. She was 6 and we had just gotten back from an overseas posting.

Mom and Dad were terrified. Mom nearly melted down right there. We got her back in minutes, but . . .

Bobbi said...

Reminds me of when a supervisor at my job called to tell the Executive Director that one of her staff "had passed." The ED was shocked and started expressing his condolences... Turns out the employee was very much alive. She had passed some required certifying exam.

Anonymous said...

Reminds me of the doctor from Arrested Development

Anonymous said...

My dearly departed wife took the 4:30 train to NY.

Steeny Lou said...

I lost one of my sons a few months ago. Here's my blog entry about it in case anyone is looking for more reading:

http://holy-sheepdip.blogspot.ca/2013/01/when-my-son-went-missing.html

Anonymous said...

"But that's the last time I let him out of his cage without a leash."

Mad Jack said...

I went missing a few times. When questioned as to my whereabouts, I'm told my father shrugged and replied that 'He'll turn up.'

Mom said, 'Oh, he's around somewhere.'

When I showed up, one or the other would casually ask where I'd been. They weren't really interested, just idly curious.

There were a few exceptions. I was raised on a horse farm, and one afternoon late in October I went riding in the woods. I stayed too long and had to ride home while it was getting dark, and the last thing I remember was a branch about chest high. I landed on my buns and watched the mare trot on away from me. Well, I picked myself up and went looking for my horse - Dad would kill me if I came home without her. Meantime, the horse went back to the stable.

Without me, you see.

Given that the ground was frozen and I might easily have a broken leg or knocked myself out, and that it was cold enough to freeze to death, Mom went ballistic. Dad was a little concerned. Dad got on my mare Dixie and rode out looking for me, while Mom saddled up another horse and got underway. Dad found me right away, running around the woods looking for my horse.

I think my folks really were a little worried that time, but I was generally a self-sufficient sort and often cared for myself without assistance. As I remember it, I was about 8 years old when this happened.

And that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Li'l Azathoth said...

"Honestly, you'd think that a 37-year-old man should be able to afford his own PlayStation."

peace said...

Thank you for the good laugh. I'll be proud to raise a boy with such sense of humour.

peace said...

Mad jack man, you got me there. Well played (I was ranning the theme of 50s movies in the back of my head)

Anonymous said...

Just found this blog, and I'm currently doing an archive binge. For the benefit of future readers of these old entries, I'll contribute my own "lost child" story...from the POV of the child.

I was 16-ish years old (so not actually a child, but still a minor), and my family went to a Barnes & Noble inside a mall. This was back in 2004-ish, when only my parents had cell phones. We split up, and I found what I wanted. Found my mother, and told her that I was going to pay for my books and that I'd be at one of the benches by the entrance of the store. I pay, head to the mall entrance, buy a box a Girl Scout cookies from the troop selling them there, sit on the bench, and start reading. For the curious, it was the second or third volume of Death Note.

About three-quarters of the way through the book, I suddenly hear my younger sister shout, "There you are!" She was walking toward me from the Girl Scouts, where she had just finished asking them if they had seen me (which might have worked better if she had *correctly* remembered the clothes I was wearing). She had been about to head back to our parents when she spotted me by chance.

When we arrived at the front desk, I found out what happened, and why my sister used that tone of voice with me. Apparently, my mother had been distracted, and had just said "okay" without actually paying attention when I told her my plans. She, my father, and my sister had finished up their shopping, had them page me to the front desk, and I never showed up. They paged me again, and I still didn't arrive. Finally, my sister took one of the cell phones, and she and Dad went looking while my mother stayed there in case I showed up.

As for why I didn't respond to tge pages? I was so absorbed in my book, I didn't hear either announcement.

All's well that ends well, I suppose. I was annoyed with my mother for a while, though, for not listening to me in the first place.

Anonymous said...

Just found this blog, and I'm currently doing an archive binge. For the benefit of future readers of these old entries, I'll contribute my own "lost child" story...from the POV of the child.

I was 16-ish years old (so not actually a child, but still a minor), and my family went to a Barnes & Noble inside a mall. This was back in 2004-ish, when only my parents had cell phones. We split up, and I found what I wanted. Found my mother, and told her that I was going to pay for my books and that I'd be at one of the benches by the entrance of the store. I pay, head to the mall entrance, buy a box a Girl Scout cookies from the troop selling them there, sit on the bench, and start reading. For the curious, it was the second or third volume of Death Note.

About three-quarters of the way through the book, I suddenly hear my younger sister shout, "There you are!" She was walking toward me from the Girl Scouts, where she had just finished asking them if they had seen me (which might have worked better if she had *correctly* remembered the clothes I was wearing). She had been about to head back to our parents when she spotted me by chance.

When we arrived at the front desk, I found out what happened, and why my sister used that tone of voice with me. Apparently, my mother had been distracted, and had just said "okay" without actually paying attention when I told her my plans. She, my father, and my sister had finished up their shopping, had them page me to the front desk, and I never showed up. They paged me again, and I still didn't arrive. Finally, my sister took one of the cell phones, and she and Dad went looking while my mother stayed there in case I showed up.

As for why I didn't respond to tge pages? I was so absorbed in my book, I didn't hear either announcement.

All's well that ends well, I suppose. I was annoyed with my mother for a while, though, for not listening to me in the first place.

 
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