There is a story in my family about a time when my mother and my father were supposed to meet up at the Howard Johnson's at a particular rest stop in, I think, Connecticut. My father arrived in his car, and waited. My mother arrived in her car, and waited. And after a very long and worrisome time had passed, it finally dawned on my dad that perhaps there'd been a mistake. He checked, and lo and behold, there were two rest stops in that particular town, one at the north end and one at the south, both with Howard Johnson's restaurants!
Yesterday Andrew and I were supposed to meet up prior to going to the hospital. He was bringing Little Guy and Snuggler, whom we were going to drop off at Dancer's godmother's house before heading to our meeting. On the way there, Andrew lost his cell phone. He eventually found it deep inside his bag (where Little Guy had deposited it) when I called and he heard it ringing.
When I picked up the kids after the meeting they were abuzz with the news that Daddy thought he lost his phone. They'd been worried we wouldn't meet up. "Oh, Daddy would have figured out how some other way to get in touch with me," I reassured them.
They looked doubtful. "How could he do that?" Snuggler challenged. I thought about it for a moment, bemused.
"I bet he would have walked you over to Ms. Dober's house and used her phone to call me on my cell," I told them.
Snuggler was miffed. "He didn't think of that!" she protested.
I laughed. "Well no, not right away," I told her, "Some solutions take time to think up. Some solutions take time."