We went Christmas tree hunting yesterday in Apple Hill. We searched and searched before finally finding the perfect tree. It took forever because Jordan kept tripping over the tiny trees planted between all the big trees. Run, trip, fall, lay on the ground, wait for attention from a parent, any parent, get up, repeat hundreds of times. It took forever. But when we found our tree, it was beautiful- almost perfectly symmetrical and just the right height. Fluffy enough and no holes. Perfect. While the tree farm guy was cutting it down for us, I took the opportunity to snag some cute candid photos of Dave and Jordan in front of our tree. Then they began walking back to the car and I thought I better take a couple of Emma and myself, since it is her first Christmas. It only took me a second, then I ran with Emma to catch up to the boys. When we reached Dave, something was missing. Our son. "Where's Jordan?" I asked.
"I don't know. You don't know?" said Dave.
"No I don't know- I thought you knew."
We looked out over a sea of trees. No Jordan in sight. Panic ensued.
"Jordan?!?! Jordan?!?!" I called...
Giggling of the one year old sort ensued.
I ran toward the giggling. It ran too. Away though. We freaking lost our kid in a Christmas tree farm.
