the death of me….in other words: OWEN. Last night we met our friends Ann and Bob and Sophie for dinner at Fries and Peanuts. They’d just finished the last of their moving and were ready to celebrate and we haven’t seen them in way too long. After we ate the husbands and the kids went to play pool while Ann and I sat and talked. Owen came over at one point and asked if we could go home—it was getting hot and crowded in there so we said yes. Then he asked if he could go wait by the van and I said NO, he needed to wait for us. So we gathered up coats, etc. and went over to the pool table. I set our stuff down and told Ernie I was running to the bathroom. I came back and we stood there talking for a minute and all of a sudden I looked around and noticed we were one blonde short. “Where’s Owen?” We looked and looked and no Owen. I tell you, your heart just about stops. I went into the other side of the place and it was packed and I couldn’t see him anywhere. I went outside and found him happily playing with one of his little cars on the patio next to the place. I could have murdered him. It just scared me to death.
I yelled at him and he cried and then we talked and I hugged him a lot but I know he’ll do stuff like this again. Owen is all impulse. He’s always very sorry and shamefaced later. Driving home he cheerfully said, “sorry about going outside by myself Mom.” sigh
Here are the guys in their new train sweaters with Sophie and Bob (Leo was having a good time…in fact it was a big concession for him to allow a picture):
Owen, Sophie, Big Bob and Little Bob:
