Thursday, August 30, 2012

From the Mouths of Babes

Our preschool visit the other day lasted all of 20-25 minutes.  We introduced ourselves, chatted for a few minutes, then one of the teachers had Charlotte color a star while I discussed various school procedures with the other teacher.  Yet somehow, even in that short of a time span, Charlotte managed to tell a story that truly made me seem like quite the crazy lady.

Here is the back story.  The week before last it was early in the morning and Jim was just leaving for work.  Oliver had woken up in the middle of the night with his darn two front teeth giving him grief and I had gotten up with him.  This left me both exhausted and frustrated when Jim was leaving for work.  When he kissed me good bye I was less than enthusiastic to return the gesture because I was so tired and grumpy that he did not help with Oliver that night since I was up until the wee hours editing a wedding.  For some reason I immediately regretted being less than lovey-dovey when he left but I shrugged it off and continued to feed Oliver and hope for a nap.  

About 5 minutes after Jim left all of these sirens went screaming by our house, and we never hear sirens.  I immediately had a sinking feeling in my stomach and just knew that something must be wrong.  I mean, CLEARLY Jim had just been in a mangled mess of a car accident right down the street.  I just knew it.  

I grabbed my cell phone and called him expecting him to answer and tell me I was crazy but he still loved me and we would be on our merry way for the day.  No answer.  Weird.  He must not have been able to get it out of his pocket in time, I reason, so I call again.  No answer.  I start to feel a little panicky and not giving the phone 2 seconds to rest I call a 3rd time.  No answer.  Oh boy.  Now all I can picture in my head is Jim in his crumpled car having to listen to his phone incessantly ring and not being able to pick it up.  In my mind, a cop is going to answer any second to tell me he was in this terrible accident.  

Full.  On.  Panic.

I put Oliver down, throw on a bra under my t-shirt and some flip flops (2 necessities if I am going to be spending the day in the hospital with my poor husband).  I go upstairs and wake up Charlotte and carry her immediately to the car.  Come back, grab Oliver, and off we go with us all still clad in pajamas.  We were out of the house in about a minute and 37 seconds.  If my husband was lying trapped in his car, or being wheeled off in an ambulance, etc... I was going to be there.  I was not going to let the last thing I said to him be a grumpy "have a good day".  

I acted pretty calm as I drove in the directions of the sirens.  I was prepared.  I was ready for what I was sure to find.  Hmm...nothing.  I turn in the direction he would take and follow his path until he would have gotten on the interstate.  Still nothing but sun filled morning streets.  Well, I figure, he must have turned the other way down our block.  So I head back to find the accident that way.

Meanwhile I am still calling his cell phone, his work phone, his cell phone again.  Every time no answer.  In my head he should be at work by now so the panic is growing a bit.  I turn back down the street the meets the other end of our block my gut wrenching.  I am expecting to see the flashing lights any second but still nothing.  I turn the other way and start to head back to the interstate.  

Just then, he answers his work phone.  I burst into tears and start sobbing on the phone.  I am trying to explain my insane actions to him and he has no idea what I am saying because I am crying so hard.  I calm down enough to explain myself and he assures me he is ok.  He pulls his phone out of his pocket and it had somehow gotten put on silent.  I think he said he missed like 11 calls, not to mention the calls to his office phone.  

After feeling silly, apologizing for acting crazy, and some good "I love you's" the kids and I grabbed some breakfast and headed home.  I thought breakfast would be my cover for yanking Charlotte from her slumber to go chasing a non-existent accident.  When Jim got home that day Charlotte told him that we looked for him in a car accident but he was ok.  Great.  She heard me blubbering on the phone to him and put it together.  The girl is bright.  

So back story aside, the preschool teachers are here and the one I am talking with mentions doing fire and tornado drills every month.  She said something and I mention that Charlotte does know what to do if we hear sirens for a tornado.  The teacher turns to Charlotte and asks her and she replies, 

"when we hear sirens we have to go to the basement to be safe.  And sometimes when we hear other sirens we go see if Daddy was in a car accident but he is ok".

Out of the mouths of babes.  I turn a nice shade of red as I quickly explain that my hormones have been a bit out of whack and I am certainly more scared than normal that something is going to happen to Jim or the kids and so this led me to irrationally to track down this non-existent car accident.  Don't worry, I will gladly accept the Crazy Lady Award at the preschool banquet because even I think that in that circumstance I must have been a bit looney.

In all the teachers seemed pretty unaffected by it.  I think they were trying to do the math in their heads (she said her baby girls passed away at 17 weeks a month ago and the baby she is holding is nine months old so that would make them how close together?).  Never the less, I can't wait to find out what Charlotte spills next. 

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