Free chicken!

I think Chris had a pretty good Father's Day, all in all, but we experienced ten minutes of pure terror. Why?? Because Izzy bolted during the split second that Chris and I were both looking at the camera we were returning to Sam's.

Izzy had held my hand as we walked up to the return counter. He's a REALLY big three-year old, so he doesn't fit well in a shopping cart any longer, but he's still fairly wild. It's really a challenge taking him out in public at the moment. I hand the camera to the woman and I don't even realize I'm letting go of Izzy's hand. Izzy's standing there by the cart in which Chris is pushing Sophie and we're watching the camera-counter woman check the camera over and deliver the verdict of whether or not we could return it. Yep, it's a manufacturing defect, so I start the process of returning it with the service desk. Chris suddenly asks, "Where's Izzy?" I look around and tell him I don't know, but I'll bet he just ran down to the little playhouse they have in front of the checkouts.

Chris takes off, racing across the store, pushing the cart with Sophie ahead of him. I turn back to the counter and then I see Chris practically running back towards me. Izzy is not in the playhouse. I look around me wildly, expecting at any moment to see that little dark blond head running towards me. Chris starts to take off, still racing with Sophie in the cart, so I tell him to leave her with me and he zips across the entire store, looking in every aisle. NO IZZY. I haven't really reached panic stage yet, but then Chris comes back up to me with such a concerned expression, holding his outstretched arms palms up. Empty handed.

My head is whipping from side to side, eyes frantically searching for a glimpse of a little boy by himself. I realize the clerk is trying to get my attention, so I turn around to sign the return slip and I ask another clerk standing there if there is a page they can announce to the workers to have everyone on the lookout for a lost child. They announce a code Adam.

I shoved the receipt in my pocket and I take off, pushing the cart with Sophie ahead of me. I go to the playhouse for a third check, even though Chris had actually gone inside to make sure that we hadn't missed him. I tried the handle of the car they had on display, in case he'd climbed inside. It was locked. I don't know where to look next. I take off towards the bathrooms - what if some pervert had grabbed him and taken him into the bathroom to molest him? I instantly erase this thought from my mind, because it's just too horrible to even consider.

I speed-walk the cart up and down the office supply aisles, staying close to the front of the store. Surely he can't have gone far! Won't he be scared and trying to find us by now? I pass by the checkouts and I look toward the service desk. They're all watching me closely, and they all look very concerned. I can tell they're hoping that I'm going so fast because I see him. But I don't. I'm just running, terrified.

A security worker comes up to me and asks if I remember what he's wearing. Yes: a yellow tank top and denim short overall's. I tell her that he looks like a five year old but he just turned three. I haven't stopped walking, or looking, while I'm telling her this. Chris passes me as he runs outside to see if Izzy got out the door on his own. I run to the other door and ask the card-checker if she had seen him. She said she thought he'd gone to the playhouse, for sure. No, we've checked there.

My heart has nearly stopped beating. THIS CAN NOT BE HAPPENING. Nearly ten minutes have passed at this point, and adrenaline is racing through my helpless body. I run and run, but where? WHERE IS MY BABY???

I go back in front of the checkouts and I see Chris break into a dead sprint. My heart stops for a moment. Is this good or bad? I race the cart over to the aisle where Chris is at top speed. I round the corner and I see little arms wrapped around Chris's neck. I know in my mind that it's Izzy, but I have to see his face.

Chris is smiling ear to ear. Izzy has just kicked his way out of a bunch of boxes holding flat screen TVs. Seems he ran away from us, turned the corner and climbed in between two aisles of boxes and was just coming out the other end. A couple had seen him coming out and they were standing there with him, knowing that a parent or two would be looking for him soon.

I never saw those people. As soon as I saw Izzy's sweet little face, I burst into tears. Now, I am not a crier. And I never cry in front of people. But as soon as I saw him, relief flooded my body. Adrenaline stopped pumping, and I emotionally crashed. It all just came to me suddenly: the terror at what could have been and the sheer gratitude at what was.

It was several minutes before I could move from that aisle. I was mortified at my behavior and I was weak from so many conflicting emotions. It was another 15 minutes of walking through the store before I was able to get my thoughts together enough to go back and look at the cameras.

But as we were leaving, a worker with a buggy full of rotisserie chickens asked me if I wanted a free chicken. Well, sure. Who isn't up for a free chicken?