I started working from home on February 1. I absolutely love it and don’t miss going into the office at all – especially the whole hair and make up thing every day! (Don’t worry – I haven’t turned into a hermit. I bring the kids to “work” each morning and get out for meetings and such. If I start talking to the toaster I’ll schedule more frequent lunch dates.)

This past Friday, though, I experienced something that tells me that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I was working from my living room floor on Friday afternoon (don’t ask – long story about fetal positioning blah blah) and I heard some crying coming from outside.

I thought maybe it was the neighbors coming home after school and that their son didn’t want to go inside.

Then I heard this pacing on the sidewalk and poked my head out the front window to see what was going on, and saw a little boy about to cross the street. He was super little, about Peter’s size, and it made me vow that my kids wouldn’t be allowed to walk around town on their own until they were at least 14.

He kept looking back and forth at the road and then behind him, as if waiting for somebody to catch up to him. Cars were stopping to let him pass, but he didn’t go.

I ran out to the porch and asked if he needed help crossing the road. He said yes. I threw on some shoes and ran out to him.

We crossed the street and I asked him where he was going. He said he was going to his babysitter Roxy’s house. I asked him how old he was (kindergarten) and if he went to the school just down the street from us (yes). I asked him how far Roxy’s house was and he said he knew what it looked like, but not where to turn.

He also mentioned that he goes to her house on the “S” days (Saturday and Sunday). I told him that it was an “F” day, and that maybe we should call his mommy just to check and see if he was supposed to go to Roxy’s.

I asked him if he knew his phone number (he did) and told him that we should probably go back to my house and call his house to see if his parents were home (he thought his mom would be working, but didn’t know where she worked except that it was a long ways away).

We turned back for my house and I called his home number and got the answering machine. I then pulled out the phone book and called his school. The secretary answered right away. I told her my name and that I had the little guy at my house. She started hollering “we found him!” to people in the background on her side. I asked if I should drive him over and she said his dad would be right over.

It turns out his dad had shown up a minute late to get him, and he decided to walk to Roxy’s house. They had no idea where he was and had been looking for at least 20 minutes. Can you imagine the fear they must have felt?

We went outside and waited for his dad. He showed me how he could snap his fingers and about how he used to not be able to do it, but now he could.

I recognized his dad as the car that came barreling down the road and into the alley by my house. His dad jumped out and came running over. I could tell he was a mix of frazzled and frustrated and relieved.

The little guy hopped in the car, ready to head home, and I told his dad that his son had done a good job of waiting for somebody to help him cross the road.

They headed home and I went back inside where I emailed Casey to tell him the story. His first response was amazed at the miracle that had occurred.

His second response was that we were definitely not going to send our kids to that school. (You do have to wonder a bit how a kindergartener got away unnoticed, but I’m not going to go there.)

Mistake or not, I am so unbelievably glad to have made the “decision” to work in my living room that afternoon.

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