Fonticulus Fides

Monday, April 21, 2008

Congratulations to the new Mr. & Mrs. James T.!!!

My husband's cousin was married Saturday at this spectacular church in downtown Omaha. I do wish there was better photograph of it, because it's stunningly beautiful. And so was the bride. Exceptionally radiant! A most happy occasion for all.

My son was happiest about getting out of his suit afterwards. My daughters liked dancing at the reception and downing bowls of white chocolate and chocolate gelato.

I had the horrifying experience of losing my youngest daughter for about 5 minutes in the Omaha Embassy Suites. Scooter asked if she could go talk to my husband across the banquet room. I said yes because I had him in plain sight. I watched her heading straight toward him. Then I was distracted by a cousin, chatted for a minute or so, and decided it was time to pack up the kids and take them home. But when I got to my husband, Scooter wasn't with him -- he thought she'd come back to me.

We both assumed she was with either Grandma or a favorite cousin. No dice. Suddenly, 12 people were fanning out to look for her. I checked the ladies' room and then went straight to the front desk to ask them to lock down the doors. Within another minute, the aforementioned favorite cousin saw the elevator doors open and Scooter calmly walking out. She grabbed her and brought her back to us.

Scooter calmly told me that she wasn't lost at all. She was going up to Grandma's hotel room to change out of her dress for the ride home. She walked into the elevator and pressed 6 (the correct floor), but couldn't remember which room (they all look alike). So she kept trying door handles, but they were all locked. Another guest at the wedding, God bless him, saw her and suggested that she find her mother (sensible man). So she got back on the elevator (with him following), pushed 2 for the banquet rooms floor (also correct), and got off to find numerous panicked relatives including a sobbing big sister.

After I could catch my breath again -- it's so hard not to cry in these situations, but with my 5-year-old in tears, I couldn't very well lose it myself -- she was properly scolded and felt bad enough to cry and want to be held very, very tightly. Then we did go up to Grandma's room, change into jammies, brush teeth and pile into the van for the long ride home.

Scooter's punishment is that she has to hold a grown-up's hand in public wherever we go this whole week. The preschool teacher has been duly informed and enlisted in the hand-holding enforcement. Conversations yesterday proved that she understands the gravity of the situation; hopefully the public "embarrassment" of having to hold hands at all times with an adult will make the lesson unforgettable.

Because honestly, since nothing bad happened, she'd probably try to do it again.

Thank you, God, for keeping my baby safe and helping her find her way back to us.



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