Spankings or Kisses

[Above: Deacon exhausted from scaring his mother to pieces.]
Today, for less than five minutes (which felt like my entire life) I lost Deacon at the pool. Usually, he bounds back and fourth between me and the pool, crashing his soaking body into my lap to ask for pretzels or his already damp towel. I've been cheering his pool confidence and encouraging him to "be brave".

Foolishly, I took it for granted that he wanted to keep me in sight as much as I did him. I've gotten confident that the boys will stay in certain areas, and sometimes, I look like an avid tennis fan, swapping my gaze between the two boys. Today, one minute I was looking at Deacon amble around the water arches, in ere millimeters of water. The next I was checking in on Bryce jumping up and down in the big little-kid end. I looked back to the arches . . . but I couldn't find Deacon.

I walked into the water, telling the friend I'd been talking to that I couldn't see Deacon anymore. I stood by the edge where Bryce was, scanning the toddler section as I walked hoping he'd just been perched for over-long on the froggy slide. No Deacon. No shark shorts.

Then I walked back by my friend hoping Deacon would have wrapped himself up in his towel in my absence. Alas, so I said, "Maybe he saw a friend on the grass?" No Deacon. No shark shorts.

Again I walked back by my friend and to report that I couldn't find him, and was going to walk through all the water. As I took off I heard her asking people around if they'd seen my shark clad boy. I saw other people I knew and said only, "I can't find Deacon", telepathically imploring them to find him for me. Another's friend's mom visiting from another country called out to me, and I only registered her voice well after passing her, because I was busy planning: first I'll Phil to come look for Deacon, then I'll have them clear the pool and drain it.

I became terrified. I wanted to scream his name above the din. I wanted to line up all the children. I looked back and saw my friend looking, looking, looking as she watched her own children.

And then I looked in a place that I would never have looked if I hadn't begun to lose it. I saw him. Out of the water. Toeing the naughty-line. He was a safe distance from the edge of the lazy river. I ran through the water, scampered over to him, scooped him up and covered him with kisses and admonitions.

In a tremendous show of self-control I did not cry. We left soon after and now I wish we were the sort of people that keep fixings for a stiff drink in the house.