"I can't find the babies."
Words that no mother wants to hear.
Josh was outside mowing the lawn on Saturday and all the kids were out with him. He came upstairs to ask me something (I was doing homework...strange, I know) and when he went back outside, no Avery or Luke.
I ran up the street one way...Josh ran up the other.
I ran the other way...Josh passed me.
I'm beginning to panic and can feel my blood pressure steadily rising.
"JOSH! WHERE ARE THEY???"
We begin knocking on doors.
"Have you seen my son or daughter?"
It's been about 6-8 minutes by now and I'm imagining the worse. All that kept running through my head is, "What are they wearing? I'll have to tell the cops what they're wearing."
Josh ducks back inside the house to sweep it again and I hear him yell, "THEY'RE HERE! THEY'RE FINE! I HAVE THEM!"
Apparently when Josh came in, they snuck in without him knowing it. They snuck upstairs, into our room and bathroom, closing both doors behind them. (We usually keep our bedroom door locked, so when we saw the closed door, neither of us thought to look in there.)
There were my two, dirty little kids, sitting in the bathtub, waiting for a bath.
Two hours later, I finally felt my heart slow down.