My daughter will be the death of me. I almost kicked off the weekend with a call to 911 to report my daughter missing from the house. Mike and I went to bed later than normal last night. I was still deep in dreamland when my husband ran into the bedroom yelling, “She’s gone! She’s nowhere in the house!” I opened one eye and mumbled something like, “Erp mrrr, whaa?” The answer I got: “Caylie is not in the house and I don’t know where she is.” – was very effective in getting me up out of bed.
Before picking up the phone to involve the police, I slipped on my shoes and walked up the street in my pajamas, my hair sticking up every which way to Sunday and my eyes half-closed. I knocked on my neighbor’s door, 2 houses down. Caylie was there in her Hello Kitty nightgown playing with her little friend Alex. Her mom said she had rung the doorbell at 7 that morning. It was 7:30 when I showed up to collect her.
My kid was missing for 30 minutes and I was off enjoying a little extra REM sleep. Don’t I feel like Mommy of the Year.