Thursday 24 January 2008

Search and Rescue

About 2 months ago I volunteered to help make sandwiches at the secondary school. Today was my first of two consecutive sandwich making days. Why I decided to help out is beyond me, I detest making school lunches, in fact I hate it so much I celebrate enormously when my kids are on school holidays.
Nevertheless I found myself having to be ready to leave the house at the ungodly hour of 08h15, now I have certainly left the house at that time before…in my pyjamas or trackie bottoms because it is a nip down to the luas etc and the only time I get out of the car is the mad dash back to the house, praying all the while that the neighbours don’t decide to use that nano second to look out of their windows.
I digress. Traffic in Dublin can be atrocious and this morning was no exception. This led me to believe that Kirstin’s safest option for getting to school on time was the luas. We were in traffic, the luas station was right there so k jumped out of the car in the middle of the mayhem and made a dash for public transport. Five minutes later I realised that I had left my cell phone at home and K always calls me when she gets off the luas. I placated myself with the fact that she has known me for 11 years, so chances were good that she would realise this when she could not get hold of me.
To make matters worse traffic eased and I actually made it to school just before 09h00 so I felt wonderfully guilty that I had booted my daughter out of my car. I even looked out for her in the vain hope that I could give her a quick cuddle and explain the phone story.
I reported for duty at the secondary school and next thing there was a tear stained, blochy eyed, frozen little girl on a scooter in the hallway. I held her while she sobbed out her sorry tale of the lost phone. She had called me from the luas, put her phone in her pocket and zipped down to school on her scooter. Upon arrival she tried to call me again (so much for knowing me so well) and realised that her phone was no longer in her pocket. This started the proverbial needle in a haystack search, retracing her steps in the icy cold. Alas no phone to be found. Anyway…I consoled her, wrote a note explaining her tardiness and sent her to school.
I made rolls and made rolls and made rolls. Finally I went home and searched for my phone (found it in the pocket of a jacket) and called Kirstin’s number. No answer, but at least it rang, which meant it had not been turned off, either it was lying all alone, wet and cold in a bush, or somebody was waiting for the owner to call.
I had promised to fetch her from school after the traumatic events of the morning and I devised a brilliant plan of search and rescue for her phone. We would retrace her steps and I would keep calling her mobile so that if it was in the bushes somewhere we would here it. This involved me remembering my cell, which luckily I did. Kirstin came out and I started telling her my cunning plan and she looked at me and said “No”. I looked straight back at her and said, “Your phone is in your school bag,” and she smiled.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Like mother, like daughter?!

Hate that moment of panic when you realise you haven't got your phone... how did we cope without them?!

Malcolm said...

Saw a great door mat:
KEYS PHONE WALLET - I definitley need one of them!!!