Monday, March 17, 2014

Home Alone

Well, the other morning at the hotel I work at, this family loaded up in their limo to go the airport and off they went.  Then, their young daughter came back from the bathroom and went back to her coloring book, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her family was gone. A few minutes later, the airport limo was back and the girl’s father came back in and the girl and her coloring book were whisked away. I don’t know how often these little dramas are played out, but I suspect it’s more frequent than one might think. I was sort of glad they came back for her.  I had no idea what I would’ve done with this child if they had not returned–as she would likely have figured out at some point that she was now on her own. 

Back in my own childhood, I remember my mom and my brother and I had gone some place that escapes my memory and we’d stopped at a service station for a bathroom break.  Well, I was in the car and my mom came back from the ladies room and started up the car and we pulled out of the place, then she realized my brother was still in the bathroom and turned around. We pulled back into the parking lot and my brother came out of the bathroom none the wiser.    My mother mentioned how she almost drove off and left him there from time to time over the years.  What she never seemed to realize was that I was well aware he was still the bathroom and said nothing. I was sitting there thinking Oh please, oh please, as we pulled away. And my brief elation was crushed when mom turned the car around.  I reasoned he’d hook up with a pack of wild dogs and forage for food out of trash cans and he’d be just fine. I was so bummed when he got back in the car. 

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