Everyone has a story like this: Loving, well-meaning family accidentally leaves a child behind. Hilarity ensues.
Today was my first.
I took the kids to the grocery store today, incident-free, and then we went to JoAnn fabrics so I could get some cheap fabric to satiate my purse-making craving. Though there were several times I thought I had lost Charis (you have no idea how interesting a fabric store can be for a three-year-old), I retained possession of her for the entire length of our time there. Judah, safely seated in the front of the cart, had nowhere to go. And it turns out that was a problem.
Charis had been sitting in the back of the cart for the last few minutes of our shopping trip, so when it came time to return the cart to its place, I lifted her out, grabbed my bag and purse, and began to walk away. Charis had wandered over to a bin of styrofoam pumpkins and was ogling them when I told her quite firmly that it was time to go.
"No, Mommy, we can't go yet!"
"Charis," I said, "I know you want a pumpkin to play with, but that is not on our list for today. Let's go."
"Charis. Yes. It's TIME."
"But we have to get BUBS!"
I looked behind me at the cart corral where my precious, forgotten son was sitting quietly in the front of our discarded cart. He looked so sad, so hopeful, so confused...
All I could do was chuckle. Uncontrollably. Because when an actual disaster has been averted, that's what you do.
(And then I kissed my eldest and thanked her for being so alert and taking such good care of her brother.)