Urban Cowboy

We went to visit friends the other evening and, as we were preparing to leave their apartment, Little Guy and their little girl started chasing each other through the building hallways.  They were squealing in laughter and we were, too.  The other mama and I were tracking them, me with Buddy Boy in his carseat, hanging from my elbow.  Little Guy hunted down his friend, squealed, and then spun around to get her to chase him.  He was just a few steps ahead of me, but he rounded a corner in front of the elevator bank and when I came around the corner a few seconds later, he was gone.  Almost immediately, I realized that the elevator must have been open as he came by and that he had run inside.  It was one of those split-second things.  I mean, I was right there.

This has always been a fear of mine.  My mother used to worry about creeks and their inhabiting creatures.  I worry about elevators and subway platforms.  At our building, Little Guy is very good about waiting to enter the elevator until I'm right with him.  But in this unfamiliar place and in the heat of the chase, I think he saw an open place to run and just went for it, probably without even realizing it was an elevator until the doors closed behind him.

I've never been very good at keeping a calm head in frightening situations, and I was just completely at a loss as to what I should do.  Go up?  Go down?  Call the front desk?  No idea.  I knew that he likely was going to be fine, but to not know the whereabouts of my child and to know that he was by himself somehwere in a city building, oh my...  Thankfully, our friends took charge.  She went up, he went down to the lobby, and I, at their direction, went down to the only other floor with an exit to the outside.  After screaming Little Guy's name on that floor and getting no answer, I took the next elevator down and just as the doors opened, I could hear my sweet little boy crying in the next elevator over.  I reached the doors of that crowded elevator as they were closing.  I pounded on the door, calling his name, and caught the tiniest glimpse of Little Guy in our friend's arms just before the doors shut.  Oh, I've never been so thankful.

Another resident had found Little Guy on the elevator and waited with him on the second floor until he was retrieved.  When our friend got to him, he was saying "Mommy where is?  Mommy where is?"  :(

So.  We've had several reviews of the elevator rules and many prayers of thanksgiving, the Little Guy rehashes the story frequently, and his friend's daddy is now spoken of with heroic intonations.