I Know How the Prodigal Son's Father Felt...

I lost Jonathan yesterday afternoon. It was only for about 10 minutes, but of course it felt like an eternity. The weirdest (or funniest) part was that I lost him in our house. It's definitely not a mansion, so there is some humor to it.

I was finishing up Math with Brennan and Nicholas. I had Philip playing under my feet. I turned to put Philip and Jonathan down for their naps and then I realized that I hadn't seen Jonathan in about 15 minutes. In fact, I couldn't think of where I last saw him.

I called for him, looking in the bedrooms. Nothing. Now Jonathan does like to hide, but usually when I call for him I can hear him giggling. Not this time. So I check closets, the laundry room - level two. Still nada. Now I start to panic.

I make sure the front door is still bolted and the blinds are still down over the back door. Yes and yes. I check the garage - door still closed. And now the tears start to flow.

This sudden emotion sparked quite different reactions in my oldest two as I quickly pleaded for their help in finding him. Nicholas came and patted me on the back with a "It's okay, Mom". Brennan went laughing and shrieking into the living room, as if the entire event was just a game. That's my fun loving one!

Yet it was there that Brennan found Jonathan. In the family room. Curled up in the corner between the couch and end table, fast asleep. With an open book over his head.

No picture of it (although it would have made a cute one!). I snapped up my sweet little boy as fast as I could. And then, we all laughed together.