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Columnist, Sheila Moss, is humor writer from  Tennessee. She writes  a weekly human interest column about daily life and the funny things that happen to everyone.

   She has written for  the Daily News of Kingsport,   Griffin Journal, Oakridge Now, Atlanta Woman Magazine, Aberdeen Examiner, Angleton Advocate,  and Smyrna AM, a supplement of the Murfreesboro Daily News Journal. She has been published by Voyageur Press, McGraw Hill, and the good folks at Guidepost Books.  Her articles have appeared in numerous anthologies and other publications, both in print and online.

    She is a former board member and past  Editor of  the, website of  the National Society of Newspaper Columnists, the oldest and largest professional organization for columnists. She is the Web Editor of Southern  and  a founder of the Southern Humorists writers' organization. She is writer, editor, and webmaster of

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Little boy lost....

Little boy lost

Why is it that I keep finding myself at amusement parks? It happened yet again.

This round actually started when we went to Orlando. What do you do in Orlando if you donít go to Disney World? But when I got back and the grandkids found out that I had been to Disney World -- without them; Well, what could I do except try to make it up to them?

So thatís how the weekend at Dollywood -- with grandchildren -- came about.

Iím too old for this. If I wanted to go to amusement parks, I should have stayed young. Unfortunately, that wasnít an option on the menu.

It wouldnít be so bad if I could keep up with people. But somehow my honey seems to keep getting himself lost. Of course, to hear him tell it, itís everyone else that is lost. He knows exactly where he is.

He reminds of the time when my kids were small and my son got lost at an amusement park. We all got on a ride, and when we looked around to count noses, my son was missing.

A lost child is a parentís worse nightmare. I imagined all sorts of terrible things, but there was no way to get off the ride and search until it was over. We found him at the ďlost childrenĒ center, eating an ice cream cone.

Ever since then Iíve been nervous about being separated from people in a crowd. My kids were the ones with tags pinned to their shirts with their name, address, and phone number on them, just in case.

Now I have to worry about losing my honey, who is a grown man. Thank goodness for cell phones so we can call each other if we become separated.

At Universal Studios in Florida, we were all walking along together when honey stopped to take a picture. The logical thing would be for him to continue walking down the street until he caught up with everyone.

He didnít.

When we realized he was not with us, we stopped and waited. We tried to call his cell phone, but his battery was dead. Well, heís a grown man. Surely he would realize that he was lost, find a phone somewhere and call us.

He didnít.

Since the place was closing down for the day anyhow, we decided to go to the gate and wait. We wondered if there was a place for lost grownups to go. Surely he would know not to leave the park without us.

He didnít.

He waited for us outside the gate. Finally, he saw us inside. ďWhere did you guys go?Ē he asked.

So, you can imagine my panic when we walked into the park at Dollywood and honey disappeared the moment we were inside the gate. Surely, after the Universal Studios incident, he remembered to charge his phone this time.

He didnít.

When he eventually found us again, we made emergency plans to meet at the fountain if we became separated. We spent a lot of time at the fountain.

I donít know why it is that he canít seem to remember to charge his phone and canít seem to stay with the rest of the group. Maybe he hopes that someone will find him and give him an ice cream cone.

Iíve had other people tell me stories of becoming separated from children in department stores or crowds. Usually, it is one problem child that seems to have a knack for getting away from them. 

Did I mention the time honey jumped on the transit subway just as the door slammed, leaving me standing on the platform? I didnít think so. I try to forget that little fiasco.

All I know is that the next time we go anywhere with large crowds, my honey will be the one wearing the name tag with his name, address, and my cell phone number on it. 

Copyright 2008 Sheila Moss

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