[dropcap]W[/dropcap]e were in Lowe’s, and we saw a little boy walking around with a nervous look on his face. He had white-blonde hair, and wore a pair of oversized Doc Martin boots. The boy clomped to the end of the lumber aisle. He leaned forward and looked right, then left.

I set my two-by-four down, and walked over to him.

“Is everything okay buddy?” I asked him.

“No,” he said, wringing his hands together. “I’m lost, I can’t find my mom.”

“No need to worry pal,” I said. “Let’s go look for her.”

We walked through the aisles of the store, he walked close by Jamie’s side with his hand over his mouth. When we wandered down the aisle in the plumbing department, we saw a woman sitting on a white porcelain display toilet with her head in her hands.

“Mom!” the boy ran toward the woman.

“Oh, I was so worried,” the woman on the toilet stood up and hugged him. “I thought the worst had happened.”

“You know,” I said to her. “You do look a little flushed.”

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