My world was shook up yesterday.
My two year old may have a life long fear of elevators.
It was definitely a 'gold star' moment for Mommy of the Year awards.
We were at my Mom's condo, riding the elevator up. Myself and the 3 kiddies, as we do all the time. Upon arrival at her floor we all (or so I thought) burst out and headed for her door. I was already gracing the premises and chatting at my sister inside when I heard my girls' panicked shouts.
'Lane's inside still! The door SHUT!'
OMG....what?! I spun around and took in the scene. My girls staring open mouthed at the indeed, closed door. One frantically pushing the call button. Both looking shell shocked. Irrationally I, too, started slapping at the call buttons. Up, down, WHATEVER! Just open the god damn door! To make matters worse, there are TWO side by side elevators, and of course the other one kept opening for us. My sister joined us in the hall, just in time for us all to hear Lane's cries drifting up or down the shaft and leaking through the doors. The saddest sound ever.
After shouting 'stay here!' I hit the stairwell and bounded down, two, three stairs at a time. All I was sure of is I didn't want him coming out street level, alone, or, horror of horrors, to the open arms of strangers. I again frantically hit the buttons and called his name. A heart wrenching plea made it's way to me...'Me here! Me here! It's Lane!' Oh. Sob. I could actually hear him passing by the still closed doors, and his voice fading as he went up and down.
Then. Silence. My heart stopped. What happened?! Finally! The door opened! A sickening drop of my stomach. He wasn't in there! Oh. My. God. What floor is he on? It's not mine, so please let it be where I left my sister. Otherwise there are 14 other floors and 3 below ground levels of parking. And so many possible dangers.
During this eternity (maybe 3 minutes?!) a young couple had come in from the street. They stood back, probably thinking I was insane, as I talked through the doors, trying desperately to console the sobbing voice they most certainly heard. As the silence fell, and doors slid open to nothing I'm sure I looked stricken. I stumbled over my words, explaining the situation and asking them to let me into the stairwell. (Worst timing ever to need a PHOB to get anywhere in a secure building)
Again, I dashed through the stairwell, hoping against hope he'd be with my sister and girls. Bursting through the doors, my eyes feasted on the sight of him. He turned upon hearing me and stumbled across the threshold on shaky legs, sobbing and falling into my open arms.
Between hugs, kisses and 'I'm so, SO sorrys' he too, clung to me, crying his hardest and exclaiming 'Don't EVER do that to me AGAIN.'
You know what?! I won't. I can guarantee I will never step out of an elevator again without all my smalls accounted for.
That is, if I ever get him to set foot in one again.
Smiles, Be well,
Crystal
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