Grandma's House

I've got to tell you about my darling grandson, Anthony. He's an independent little cuss, just like his father. Yesterday, after school (he's in first grade), he decided to go to a friend's house. He told his friend's parents he could stay as long as he wanted, and it was okay with Mom and Dad. Problem is: Mom and Dad didn't know where he was. For two and a half hours. They were absolutely frantic! Of course, he got home all right, but for that length of time, you can imagine the thoughts going through their heads. So they took him to visit with the local police department, where they sat down with an officer, and he gently explained to the child how dangerous his actions were, and not to do it again. Personally, I hope he put the fear of God in the child, while still instilling respect for policemen everywhere.

When they called me to tell me about it, it was all I could do to keep from laughing. I know, you say that's a horrible thing for a grandmother to do. But wait! You don't know "the rest of the story." Anthony's loving father, who was so frightened, did the exact same thing when he was in first grade! His grandfather, who was sitting for us at the time, called us at work and told us all about it. We had the same reaction our son did. He did turn up about an hour later. He had gotten off the school bus at the proper stop, but then retraced the bus route and went to the house of a friend who had gotten off the bus one stop back.

Naturally, when I mentioned this to my son, he didn't remember it. But, even now, 21 years later, it is still vivid in my mind. I wonder if Anthony's child will do the same thing?