1st time My mom asked me to quit yakking so I went and fell asleep under a shelf and she searched for hours for me.

2nd time She asked for some “space” as I was chatting while she worked (ok, ok, I was a chatterbox and parrot was my nickname) so I decided to just give her that. I went to a neighbor’s home and was playing with her kid under the table. And then began the mom search. She did stop by the home I was at but another lady that lived there answered the door and since she did not know I was there told my mom so. My mom formed a search party and people were screaming out my name. My friend’s mom heard the commotion in the neighborhood and asked what it was about and when mom mom told her – she said “But she is playing under the kitchen table with my son” Mom freaked, I did not.. she did ask for space, right?

This post was mentioned on Twitter by jylMomIF: Parenting Question: What would you do if your child went missing for 3 hours? Here’s my story: http://bit.ly/aLLovt...

Where I live now (population less than 1500): yell at the top of my lungs for you to come home. If that didn’t work hit the park two blocks away, the library – three blocks away, the gas station that serve soft serve ice cream – three blocks away and knocking on the neighbors doors as I go. I live in a VERY small town so you wouldn’t be hard to find and unless you were inside a friend’s home, you’d be found LONG before 3 hours.

In the 70′s times were very different so I would be panicked and worried as any parent would but I’m not sure I would call the police…especially in a small Pleastanvill-ish town. It would depend on my neighborhood, my kid’s personality, and the overall circumstances.

The best part of the story is your sister being shoeless and you buying her earrings–priceless! you definitely were the best sister ever. ha

…. but — the bigger question is— Didn’t the cab driver think it was strange to pick up and drop off 3 small kids at the mall?—

When Jonathan (my son) was less than 2 years old, he left the house sometime around 5:30 am, in his diaper and nothing else, and trekked the 1/2 mile down the road to the corner store where we would sometimes walk together. The automatic doors granted him entrance and he marched up to the counter and said, “Coke, please” to the sweet old man on the other side. The old man got a Coke from the cooler and planted Jonathan on a stool next to him. And then called the police.

I didn’t even know he was gone until I was brought awake by the pounding on my door. When I opened the door and saw Jonathan resting comfortably in the arms of the very imposing officer, I almost had a breakdown. But that little stinker not only made his way safely to the store, he also told the police how to get back home.

He’s pulled many such stunts over the years, and each one is just as frightening as the one before. Now he’s 19 and I (thankfully!) am no longer required to keep tabs on him. When it was critical that I do so, though, I slept very little; constantly kept my close neighbors on alert for the little runaway; and constantly drilled into him why it was such a bad idea to take off without Mama.

My answer to your question of “What would you do..” is: Panic, mostly!

Sounds like a story your family will never allow you to forget! haha