We had just returned from the big family reunion in Edmonton: four days on the road, rest stops, hotel pools, West Edmonton Mall water park, big picnic site. They were fine---no injuries (barring a wasp sting for Molly in Nana's backyard), no anxious moments wondering where they were.
So, we were back home, breathing a sigh of relief. Molly and Hanaa were outside playing on our street where they had played a thousand times before. Noah was inside reading. He was joking about them running away. Then they did. All of a sudden they were not on our street. They were not at the two close parks. They were not within earshot.
I tried to keep calm. Noah was doing a really good job of freaking out for both of us.
Some neighbours and I did some quick searching and knocking on doors, nothing. I called Marc. He got in the van and picked them up on his way home; they were walking merrily along to the far-away park down the street.
I still don't know why. Molly said something about Noah telling them they weren't allowed within a mile of the house, and Hanaa said she thought she was dreaming. Seriously. She was not wearing shoes.
Right before Marc let me know he found them, I was getting ready to call the police. I could not remember what Molly had on. I knew exactly what Hanaa was wearing because she refused about a dozen outfits before agreeing to one. Sometimes I'm glad she's a diva.
So, today, I took pictures of the kids with my phone first thing in the morning. I think I might do it every morning. Just in case.
