By now I'm sure the whole nation has heard about the family who got lost in a corn maze in Massachusetts. The couple had with them their toddler and their newborn baby. As the sun began to set, they got a little panicky and called 911. The police converged on the corn maze with bloodhounds and helicopters and deep-sea divers (although I can't confirm that for certain) and within 10 minutes they found the family just nine yards from the entrance.
I can’t say that I blame the new parents. When my babies were just babies, I would have probably done the same thing if I couldn’t find a way to get us back to our home. But now that they’re older… Well, that’s a different story.
Last year, The Dad and I went to a corn maze with The Daughters and I’ll be honest with you, The Dad got “lost”. And wouldn’t you know it, he was by himself. I was left stranded with my two daughters – who were not toddlers nor were they newborns – and I began to feel more than a little bit disoriented myself.
It was a glorious day and I was sprinting through the maze following two hyper-active daughters running through the corn as if they were purposefully trying to lose me. In fact, the trail was more like a “suggestion” for them to follow; half of their routes took us through the stalks instead of beside the stalks. I had scrapes and cuts all over my arms and my face. I was certain that it was only a matter of time before I developed post-traumatic stress disorder… that is if we ever got out so the whole ordeal could become “post”.
After an hour of racing through the corn with absolutely no purpose in mind at all, I attempted to call The Dad on his cell phone and found out that I had no service. It was at this point that I panicked. Could it be that he found his way through the maze and had seized his opportunity? Was he sitting down at the Headless Horseman Tavern throwing back a cold one as I channeled my fifth grade self and called out to The Daughters, “Wait up for me, you guys”?
Eventually we made it out and found The Dad sitting on a bail of hay playing Texas Hold ‘Em on his phone patiently waiting for his family. It was no surprise that he looked all kinds of relaxed and mellow.
So, I can totally relate to the momma who called 9-1-1 when she and her family became lost in the corn maze. It’s a frantic feeling to think someone built it but no one will come.
I’m willing to give the woman two years, three tops, however, before she finds herself in the corn maze again, but this time her knight in shining armor will be “lost” himself and not so quick to call for help at that time! Get ready, Momma!
And Happy Halloween!
