Waiting for the bell to ring at school this morning, Matthew had to pee. So I sent him to the bathroom saying that I'd be right in, as soon as I could snag Luke from the playground. Got inside, no Matthew.
Checked the classroom. No Matthew.
Checked the OTHER classrooms. No Matthew.
Back outside. No Matthew.
Left Luke with another Mummy (God bless other parents!) and went back inside, trying to quell the panic blooming in my stomach. An older girl asked if she could help and I stuttered out, "I can't find Matthew!"
She asked, "The little redhead?" and when I nodded, she went tearing off to gather her friends.
Principal came over, told me that the kids use the bathrooms in the portable when they have to come in from the playground. I didn't know that and raced back outside without a word. Lo and behold as I careened around the corner of the main building there he was, being carried by a gaggle of 12 year old girls...and crying.
All he could ask was, "Where's Luke? Where's LUKE?"
Poor kid. I feel awful for him. Left him, on what started out to be an exciting, adventurous day, looking pale-faced and glassy-eyed. Am a bit worried about that, actually.
An EA came over as us parents trooped out of the yard and hugged me. Apparently, when I first sent Matthew to the bathroom, he found HER and took her hand saying that he had to go pee. That's what they do during the day, you see.
Well, yes. Now I DO see.
But I have also aged about 10 years in the last 20 minutes and I can't stop crying.
What if...what if...what if.....GAH!