September
25, 2001 - Tuesday
One morning a couple of weeks ago I couldn't find the
car keys when it was time to take Harry to daycare. I remember it was a morning
that I had a lot to do and was hoping to drop him off promptly and get to
work. There is an everyday deadline of sorts for getting Harry to daycare
before his provider walks her
own children to the bus stop. If I don't get there before that, it's best
if I wait another 20-25 minutes. But, the keys were not on the usual side
table by the door, nor were they in the drawer below, nor were they in the
slightly higher out-of-Harry's reach backup spot. I looked at the clock. I
looked around round the room. Harry was ready to go, with shoes on and trying
to open the door. I looked in the drawer again. I looked at the clock again.
I started mumbling to myself. Harry was starting to get antsy. I remember
a growing frustration on my part that I suspect is a common associate of lost
car keys and as my anxiety reached a peak, I blurted out a very overt "Oh,
shhh-oot."
Now, it probably doesn't take that clever a post-adolescent mind to imagine
that I was a half a syllable away from a more colorful proclamation. I caught
myself some time after the "sh" started with mental flashes of all of the
colorful phrases I've heard little children say and the thought that Harry
would hence join them. Sure enough, Harry was quick to pick up on my emphatic
outburst and almost immediately started opening the drawers himself, continuously
saying "oh shoot."
These days, Harry's mother and I are quite tickled by Harry's frequent exclamation
of "oh shoot" and tonight it happened again. Harry started making believe
he was looking for something: this time he stood with his fingers pawing through
the books on a shelf. And, as he invariably does during these little mystery
searches, Harry repeated "oh, shoot" to accentuate his pretended quest. It's
harmless and indeed rather cute now, but its also a little humbling to know
how close I came to a major parental blunder.
Comments,
opinions?