The other day Ross decided he was going to walk to Grandma's. I told him he'd never make it on foot cause it takes nearly an hour to drive there in the car. Then I got busy with something and forgot he'd gone out the door. Suddenly it hit me: Ross is probably walking to Grandma's!
We hopped in the van and found him waaaay down the road carrying his stuffed dog and his favorite blanket. Two other people had also found him and were following him in their cars, one of them had called 911. (Great. That's the second time someone has called 911 on me.)
I took Ross home and explained that if people call 911 on us too many times the police will take him away from me and he'll go to a new mom and dad. That was the wrong thing to say. Ross got an excited look in his eye and two minutes later, he was gone again. Then I got to have the same chat with two more people about my runaway son.
Strangely I wasn't embarrassed. I guess that means I'm getting used to it. Sigh.
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