Monday, December 7, 2009

Lost Gloves Found...

Tonight I took my friend's son to see a movie. He's nine. After being easily persuaded to drop more than a few tokens in the game room, (even though I knew we were rapidly approaching bed time), my "adult-in-charge" kicked in and I noticed he was not wearing gloves. I knew he'd left the house with them because, as we were bundling up he said, "Do you think I should take my gloves." I said he should and he did, so I knew they were at least with us when we left the house.

But there were more than a few places they could be - my car, the theater parking lot, the theater, the lobby, the hallway to the individual theaters, the game room.

I was instantly taken back to my own nine-year-old days and could physically recall that low-grade shame and panic of losing something else, again.

For those of you who don't know, I wrote an early entry explaining the name of this blog - that I was a former loser (of things) and now, for the most part, do pretty good at keeping track of what I have. I say "for the most part" because I do, still, tend to leave a good deal behind. However, they tend to be things like earrings and face lotion and pens. I don't tend to lose my purse or credit cards or other items that are cause for a higher level panic. Or perhaps it's just that now, as an adult, I have access to the means to replace my things without others being involved...

Anyway, Ely and I searched the car with no luck, and went back inside the movie theater. The concession cashier walkie-talkied a manager who went to look. I remembered that waiting feeling. The waiting while someone went to look for something I'd left, and the anticipation of either relief or doom.

In the car, we talked about strategies of how to remember not to forget things. I came up short because, while I can usually explain something in a way a kid can understand, the only things I could conjour were "adult" suggestions or empathetic antedotes on how I could remember feeling what I felt. I must have been offered tons of advice on this topic as a child, and I cannot recall a single one. After a silence, Ely said, "I'm just glad we found the gloves. My dad would have been really mad."

"I know buddy," I said. "I know."

1 comment:

  1. Hmmm...I just read this out loud to Steve and Ely. Ely seemed to leave out this detail when he told us about the evening :).