ed desperately to peer around the cover of the paperback I’d been attempting to read… It was a cold wintry December night as I began the long journey home, gazing wonderingly at the lights and
displays upon the Tudor style homes, the smell of burning wood permeating the air as it wafted from the chimneys. Yes, it was that wondrous time of year once again…or that wondrous time of week anyway. It was another glorious Thursday evening. A couple 
of hours of peace and quiet awaited me at home while my wife, Jenn and two year old son, Justin were busy at nearby Archetots; his weekly playgroup. I could almost smell the Spam (a guilty pleasure) frying on our kitchen griddle while the living room stereo was cranked up far louder than that which would be considered acceptable by my adoring spouse. Ascending the front steps (both of them), my reverie was suddenly interrupted by the sound of E.L.O.’s Turn To Stone reverberating from the inside of my left front pants pocket.Flipping open the cell phone I said, “Hello Snoog,” addressing my wife by her pet name of the month.
“Oh my God”, we lost Blue,” she said, the sound of panic in her voice clearly evident. “I don’t know how. What are we gonna do...?”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” I answered trying hard to sound just a bit more concerned and a little less annoyed.
“Let me get inside first. I’ll call you right back.”
Answering nature’s call in our horrific lime green bathroom I thought sullenly to myself, oh well so much for quality alone time.
Blue cam
e into our lives several months after our son had arrived. Justin, who was somewhere between infant and toddlerhood had started to become restless that Saturday afternoon on a brief shopping excursion to a nearby Kohl’s store. Thinking quickly, I grabbed a stuffed animal off one of the shelves and dropped it into his lap providing a temporary distraction that was supposed to last only until checkout time; however he was a bit reluctant at that point to surrender his new friend. Parting with an additional five dollars, a miniscule amount I figured, for something that would become a young child’s lifelong companion seemed like a good parent thing to do.“Alright, now explain to me exactly what happened,” I said half-heartedly into the phone, my eyes distractedly gazing upon the clean and unused griddle sitting atop the stove.
“He had him at my mom’s house, and then we went to Sears before coming here.”
Having grudgingly accepted her shopping obsession several years ago, I asked her anyway, “Why did you go to Sears?”
“What difference does that make,” she snapped?
Ignoring her, I pressed “Did he have Blue with him when you went inside?”
“I don’t know, I don’t remember. I think so.”
“He definitely had him when he left your mom’s?”
“I don’t know,” she yelled.
This was going nowhere fast. In my mind, I’d already made the decision that I would get over to Sears as quickly as possible which meant making the 1.5 mile trek back to town to jump on the Subway, but not before begrudgingly calling her mom whom I’d known would exercise a calmer, more rational demeanor in the face of what would probably wind up ending in tragedy and heartbreak.
“He’s definitely not here,” she said. “We checked the parking lot, street, hallway, lobby, and all three elevators. I would call the store first. If someone found him, they would surely turn him in to Lost and Found, or Security.”
“Oh, dear, dear, where did you come from my little friend? Some little boy or girl must really be crying for you right about now. Oh, that poor child. I’m going to bring you right downstairs,” the kind matronly part time employee soothingly comforted the wayward animal.
That would be my mother in-law’s reality.
“Where the hell did you come from,” the disgruntled underpaid part-time employee sneered as he uncaringly dumped the defenseless blue animal into the trash.
Having grudgingly accepted her shopping obsession several years ago, I asked her anyway, “Why did you go to Sears?”
“What difference does that make,” she snapped?
Ignoring her, I pressed “Did he have Blue with him when you went inside?”
“I don’t know, I don’t remember. I think so.”
“He definitely had him when he left your mom’s?”
“I don’t know,” she yelled.
This was going nowhere fast. In my mind, I’d already made the decision that I would get over to Sears as quickly as possible which meant making the 1.5 mile trek back to town to jump on the Subway, but not before begrudgingly calling her mom whom I’d known would exercise a calmer, more rational demeanor in the face of what would probably wind up ending in tragedy and heartbreak.
“He’s definitely not here,” she said. “We checked the parking lot, street, hallway, lobby, and all three elevators. I would call the store first. If someone found him, they would surely turn him in to Lost and Found, or Security.”
“Oh, dear, dear, where did you come from my little friend? Some little boy or girl must really be crying for you right about now. Oh, that poor child. I’m going to bring you right downstairs,” the kind matronly part time employee soothingly comforted the wayward animal.That would be my mother in-law’s reality.
“Where the hell did you come from,” the disgruntled underpaid part-time employee sneered as he uncaringly dumped the defenseless blue animal into the trash.
That would be my reality!
Several minutes later after waiting interminably on hold for a disgruntled underpaid Lost and Found employee to actually pick up the phone, I’d obtained the expected result; no Blue. The half hour that had passed since I’d last conversed with my anxious wife had done little to soothe her.
“Does he know Blue is missing, I asked, now starting to become genuinely concerned?
“He hasn’t said anything,” she responded.
Having told her of my plan to race back out into the dark cold night, she stopped me, illustrating in detail that no time would really be gained in doing so. Half an hour later Sherman (that’s the name our ’99 Corolla goes by), horn blaring screeched up in front of the house.
“Hey buddy,” I grinned, greeting my lil’ guy as I climbed into the passenger’s seat.
He smiled.
Turning the radio up to keep him from overhearing any frantic conversation I asked, “Do you remember exactly where you parked?”
“I think so”
“What about the entrance you walked in?”
“I always use the same one”
No comment.
“Which department were you in?”
“Women’s.”
No comment.
“Remember how you got there?”
“I think so”
Starting with the parking garage, which was now pretty empty at this point, I drove around slowly looking for
any signs of what might later be construed as Furry Blue Road Pizza.
So far, So good.
Next, I started looking underneath the few cars parked in the vicinity, thinking to myself I’m either going to get shot or arrested. Happily, it had been neither. Sadly though, no sign of Bluey.
“When we get inside, you go ahead of us and start looking. I’ll keep him distracted,” I instructed looking forlornly at our 17 month old.
Stopping First at the Security/Lost and Found desk, I had wanted to do the talking, but Jenn had walked in first.
“We lost a little blue dog, I was here earlier and I think I may have lost him in the women’s department. Did you hear anything? Has anyone turned in a blue dog? He has a tail and long nose…”
Two nodding silent faces stared back at us.
“He’s not real,” I offered dryly.
A feeling of hopelessness began to pervade as we made our way through the store looking under shelves, and behind counters. It was in the large tools section when Justin looked up at me with his blue eyes and innocently asked, “Where’s Bluey?”
I froze.
Choked is more like it!
The only thing that appeared to have gone right this evening was that he had seemingly not yet noticed his little companion’s disappearance.
“Wh, who’s Bluey,” I stuttered, looking at Jenn and shrugging my shoulders.
Parenting skills had not come naturally.
As we ascended the escalator to the next level, a semi worst case scenario was beginning to play out in my mind. We would simply get back in the car drive almost an hour east to the nearest Kohl’s store and pick up another one. Of course the worst case scenario was that they wouldn’t have another one.
In the women’s section Jenn just disappeared.
No surprise there.
Every few seconds amidst the racks of clothing within the middle of the bright, cheery maze of colors and fabrics, her head would pop-up but for a brief a second. With Justin in tow, the two of us got down on our hands and knees acting as if this were all a game, looking under racks and displays of dresses, pantsuits, blouses, and I didn’t even know what half the stuff was called, thinking for the second time that night that I would either be shot or arrested.
Several minutes later after waiting interminably on hold for a disgruntled underpaid Lost and Found employee to actually pick up the phone, I’d obtained the expected result; no Blue. The half hour that had passed since I’d last conversed with my anxious wife had done little to soothe her.
“Does he know Blue is missing, I asked, now starting to become genuinely concerned?
“He hasn’t said anything,” she responded.
Having told her of my plan to race back out into the dark cold night, she stopped me, illustrating in detail that no time would really be gained in doing so. Half an hour later Sherman (that’s the name our ’99 Corolla goes by), horn blaring screeched up in front of the house.
“Hey buddy,” I grinned, greeting my lil’ guy as I climbed into the passenger’s seat.
He smiled.
Turning the radio up to keep him from overhearing any frantic conversation I asked, “Do you remember exactly where you parked?”
“I think so”
“What about the entrance you walked in?”
“I always use the same one”
No comment.
“Which department were you in?”
“Women’s.”
No comment.
“Remember how you got there?”
“I think so”
Starting with the parking garage, which was now pretty empty at this point, I drove around slowly looking for
any signs of what might later be construed as Furry Blue Road Pizza.So far, So good.
Next, I started looking underneath the few cars parked in the vicinity, thinking to myself I’m either going to get shot or arrested. Happily, it had been neither. Sadly though, no sign of Bluey.
“When we get inside, you go ahead of us and start looking. I’ll keep him distracted,” I instructed looking forlornly at our 17 month old.
Stopping First at the Security/Lost and Found desk, I had wanted to do the talking, but Jenn had walked in first.
“We lost a little blue dog, I was here earlier and I think I may have lost him in the women’s department. Did you hear anything? Has anyone turned in a blue dog? He has a tail and long nose…”
Two nodding silent faces stared back at us.
“He’s not real,” I offered dryly.
A feeling of hopelessness began to pervade as we made our way through the store looking under shelves, and behind counters. It was in the large tools section when Justin looked up at me with his blue eyes and innocently asked, “Where’s Bluey?”
I froze.
Choked is more like it!
The only thing that appeared to have gone right this evening was that he had seemingly not yet noticed his little companion’s disappearance.
“Wh, who’s Bluey,” I stuttered, looking at Jenn and shrugging my shoulders.
Parenting skills had not come naturally.
As we ascended the escalator to the next level, a semi worst case scenario was beginning to play out in my mind. We would simply get back in the car drive almost an hour east to the nearest Kohl’s store and pick up another one. Of course the worst case scenario was that they wouldn’t have another one.
In the women’s section Jenn just disappeared.
No surprise there.
Every few seconds amidst the racks of clothing within the middle of the bright, cheery maze of colors and fabrics, her head would pop-up but for a brief a second. With Justin in tow, the two of us got down on our hands and knees acting as if this were all a game, looking under racks and displays of dresses, pantsuits, blouses, and I didn’t even know what half the stuff was called, thinking for the second time that night that I would either be shot or arrested.
Then…suddenly, the unmistakable sound of jingle bells ringing from overhead caused Justin and I to look up while simultaneously somewhere off to our left I’d heard an unmistakable gasp that could only hav
e come from my wife.
Could it be??
Had Santa made an unscheduled appearance, flying miraculously unscathed and unseen through the crowded store? Had eight tiny reindeer passed by above without leaving behind any cheery droppings?
“I found him,” Jenn squealed excitedly, holding the little blue dog triumphantly above her head.
“It’s a Christmas miracle,” I yelled jubilantly, causing a number of rather not so jubilant shoppers to look briefly in our direction.
“Justin, it’s Bluey,” Jenn gushed, happily handing over the little critter that looked no worse for wear.
“Yea, Bluey,” he answered in a way that only a bewildered young child could.
We laughed, we sang, we shared our success with the disgruntled, underpaid security employees as we marched proudly past them on our way back outside, a parade of three stepping in time to the tune of “Sleigh Ride” playing gaily from the circular ceiling speakers above.
e come from my wife.Could it be??
Had Santa made an unscheduled appearance, flying miraculously unscathed and unseen through the crowded store? Had eight tiny reindeer passed by above without leaving behind any cheery droppings?
“I found him,” Jenn squealed excitedly, holding the little blue dog triumphantly above her head.
“It’s a Christmas miracle,” I yelled jubilantly, causing a number of rather not so jubilant shoppers to look briefly in our direction.
“Justin, it’s Bluey,” Jenn gushed, happily handing over the little critter that looked no worse for wear.
“Yea, Bluey,” he answered in a way that only a bewildered young child could.
We laughed, we sang, we shared our success with the disgruntled, underpaid security employees as we marched proudly past them on our way back outside, a parade of three stepping in time to the tune of “Sleigh Ride” playing gaily from the circular ceiling speakers above.
It had truly been A Christmas Miracle!
2 comments:
...reminds me of an incident with our son's Minnie mouse. Well written to keep one's interest
A story many parents (and kids)can relate to! In our family it was Droofus the dog who "escaped". He never came back home, but Droofus Jr. became a new member of the family (but the level of love for Jr wasn't quite the same as the original!). I'm sure one day your son will love to hear the story of the Christmas miracle! :)
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