30

Hide and go seek is the worst game invented ... Well, I guess that's not fair to say.

But when you are playing with an almost 2-year-old and he doesn't tell you his plan, it is perhaps the most terrifying experience ever.

I was home Wednesday July 5 with Jack; Husband was at work. After a leisurely breakfast and a quick run to the nursery to grab more flowers for the yard, Jack and I were going to spend the afternoon watering, weeding and planting. I pulled out the wagons, grabbed the Miracle Grow and the proper tools.

We have a mini Red Ryder that was actually mine that Jack loves to push. Yes, I said push. He's not 100 percent on the pulling thing. Anyway, I loaded up his wagon and together we started to walk toward the backyard. About halfway from the center of the side yard, he got tired. He got distracted. He wasn't going to push the wagon any longer. So I told him to stay right there and I would come back and get his wagon for him. I quickly pulled the larger wagon to the back.

Picture this: Our sleepy neighborhood just after noon on a Wednesday. In the distance you can hear a lawn mower buzz. Occasionally, a train blows through town. It was a perfectly gorgeous day. No reason to be alarmed.

I came back around the corner and saw Jack's tippy cup in the grass with his little cap beside it. No Jack. OK, I said to myself, he must have wandered to the front yard to sit on the porch. Sitting on the porch watching cars go by is a favorite pastime these days. I called out his name as I went around the corner. Nothing. No Jackie. I wasn't quite panicked yet.

I went around the other side of the house. The neighbors have two yipping dogs. Certainly he went to look at them. I moved quickly to the back. No doggies. No Jack. Now, I screamed his name. I thought maybe he was following me, looking for me, so I started to run back the other way.

1 time round.

I passed the baby-sized wagon, the tippy cup and the cap. I start running. Screaming his name. OVer and OVer.

2 times round.

OK at this point I was flashing back to all the cars I had seen floating through the neighborhood. Were any shady? Did they steal my child? IS JACK OK? DID SOMEONE HURT HIM? Then I thought of my Husband. What would I tell him? He would kill me for taking my eyes off his boy for 30 seconds. And rightfully so! He's not even 2! What was I thinking? Isn't it the picuturesque neighborhoods where the cute little boys get nabbed? Panic was full fledged at this point. I was yelling his name. People in Detroit could hear me. I turned and started running the other direction.

JACK! JACK! JACKIEEEE! Where are you?!! COME FIND MAMA!!!

3 times round.

I came around the corner again toward where I had last seen him. I thought I heard a faint "Mama!" I instantly thought he must be hurt, scared, crying. He didn't know where I was! I am the worst mother ever. I started sprinting, calling his name.

And then, there he was ... his little Dennis the Menace T-shirt and shorts. Big smile.

"Hi Mama!"

I didn't know if I wanted to hug him or kill him. First hug, then a stern warning about doing it again and a firm grasp on his shoulders.

I asked him where he was and didn't he hear me calling for him?

"In the bush,'' he said pointing to the oversized evergreen bush that grows on the side of the house.

He was in the bush.

So he totally saw me running around like an insane person looking for him. And apparently, he thought it was funny.

I guess maybe I was being punished for when my brother and I used to pretend to get attacked by sharks in the ocean.

It's just really not funny.