The Lift Incident

As the littlest one was getting better, my dear husband was taking him for a ride this morning while sending my eldest to school. 

As everyone was getting dressed, number 4 (I used to think using numbers was appalling but then turned out it was just easier this way) was excited and took out his squeaky shoes (which my dear husband hated) and started to put them on.  He was doing quite well except he got them on the wrong feet.  So I took over and helped him.  I then told him to follow number 1 to the lift lobby just outside our flat.  He happily bobbed out and then I made the first mistake of the day.

I turned my head to talk to number 3, who walked into the living room.

By the time my dear husband got out into the lobby, number 4 was gone.  Number 1 however, was still standing there.  When asked where his little brother is, he then exclaimed, "Oh my God! I think he went into the lift!"

By himself.

By then, we were frantic, I practically screamed at my husband to run down the stairs to see where the lift stops, while I had my eyes glued on lift display to see where it stops.  I screamed at the top of my voices down the stairway to my husband that it stopped at the 4th floor.  So when I saw the lift coming up, I thought he had gotten to number 4 and was bringing him up.

Of course, it was not.  The lift doors opened and it was a neighbour with her son - and my runaway son.  She then proceeded to give me a dressing down on how it had frightened her to see a 2 year child ALONE in the lift.  And that we were so lucky that her son recognized number 4 and knew that he lived on the 11th floor.

I am not sure I thanked her but the sense of relief I felt was indescribable.  He was not crying but he was spotting an upturned mouth. 

I guess I can now mentally log that this is first time he took the lift by himself.

Do you have any heart-stopping moments with your kids?