Gotta Chase A Dog

While the kids were all home enjoying a long winter break, I decided to bust out a puzzle. Puzzles are like wormholes in my family. They trap my kids and suck them in, utterly transporting them to the ice skating paradise in the picture on the box. They are helpless against the puzzle. They must finish it. So, I was surprised when Josiah left. I was surprised for many reasons. Surprised that he could be drawn away from the hypnotic grip of the puzzle, surprised because he silently and without explanation walked out the front door and vanished, but, mostly, surprised because he left the house barefoot and in his pajama shorts on a rather cold December day.

However, I was even more surprised when he returned thirty minutes later all dirty and bloody. 

"WHERE DID YOU GO? WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU? WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?" I asked, like only a caring, loving mother can scream at her child. 

"I had to chase a dog,"Josiah told me, like that should clear it all up.

"Whose dog?"

"A lost dog."

"Did the dog attack you?"

"No, I fell."

And, even though I tried my best to squeeze more details out of that boy, that was the entire story.