Saturday, January 7, 2012


In a babysitting trade last week, Diana was watching cousin Finn and cousin Rory along with Elijah and Luca. The best way to accomplish this is to position yourself in a door frame or a bathtub with a heavy book over your head. Once the air raid sirens cease, it is safe to exit your home and look for the nearest State Farm representative.

Pam arrived to pick up her kids late in the afternoon. In my mind’s eye, I can picture what our house looked like. Every inch of the floor was covered in molded plastic. Each step through the house included that familiar “crunch” of action figure accessory embedding itself into your foot flesh. In other words, Diana’s personal hell.

To make matters worse, there was an extra flurry of worker activity on our basement. Cigarettes being extracted from packs. Cigarettes being lit. Cigarettes being inhaled.

As Finn and Rory put on their coats, Diana looked around. Where’s Luca? Oh that silly boy must be hiding. Diana did a quick scan of the usual hiding places. Behind the chair. In the closet. Under the table.

Nope. No luck.

Diana help up the cousins and asked them to help search. Cries of “Luca!” filled the house as the kids searched.

Nope. No luck.

This is where the flicker of panic set in. Where was he? The shouts got a little more urgent and the hunt a little more desperate. Diana looked in rarer, non Luca places. In the basement work zone. In the backyard. Up and down the street.

Nope. No luck.

Panic fully set in. The search became wild and erratic. Places a 2 year old can’t even fit. Open the toilet lid. Peer into the freezer. Behind radiators. Thoughts of calling 911 entered her mind.

Suddenly, Elijah called out. Luca was found. Diana followed Eli’s voice upstairs. Luca had crawled into an almost completely inaccessible crawlspace behind his crib. He had entered there with his blankie and his pacifier to take a nap and escape the chaos.

Diana was stuck with an intense desire to join him.

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