For those faint of heart, do not read on. This is a story of terror and panic. This is a story of a monster. This is a story about Liam. It is a true story.
This morning seemed quiet and uneventful. The boys and I woke up and after getting everyone dressed we headed out the door for school. We were doing well, we made it there a few minutes early. And this early arrival is where our story truly begins.
Graeme's class doesn't open up until exactly 9:00 a.m. Knowing that he had drunk his entire drink between the house and school, I decided this would be an excellent time to take him to the bathroom before he went into his classroom. I took both boys into the nearby women's restroom where Graeme chooses the far stall. I put Liam down and go back and forth between the boys making sure both are doing well. Graeme is doing his business, Liam is bouncing and happy.
As Graeme finishes up and I help him with his pants and washing his hands, Liam decides the time is right. Right for what you ask. Escape, of course. I thought the door was too heavy for him to push, but no, the brief moment away was all he needed. As I finished with Graeme and went back to grab Liam, he was not there. I quickly open the door and look down the hall. Right, left, right, left-no small child in sight.
I run back in and get Graeme to tag along as I hurry along asking if anyone has seen my small child. I call Liam's name over and over, NOTHING. Graeme is running with me as we check hallways and ask if anyone has seen a little boy. Graeme is definitely feeling my anxiety as we stop back at the desk just outside the hallway leading to his classroom not knowing what to do next.
At that moment, the elevator doors open and I look over to see a small boy very pleased with himself. Yes, there was Liam taking an elevator ride. Quiet and sneaky, my son used his unusual height for his age and took himself on a little adventure.
Praise that he is okay, but Amazon will be delivering the leash on Thursday!
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