Just had a mildly scary experience. My 6 year old went for tea at a friend's house and I was due to pick her up with little sister at 6pm after finishing work and feeding said little sister.
Except when it came to setting off to collect her I realised I'd mislaid the piece of paper with the address on. No need to panic, we all have mobiles these days don't we? So I texted the mum in question and set off towards the road I thought she lived down. Arriving at the end of the road there was still no reply. Ok, let's try ringing then. Answer phone. Oh poo. Try again in a few minutes. Answer phone. Little sister asking over and over again: "Where does C live Mummy?" "Erm, I'm not quite sure honey."
Ok, don't panic, she'll call back in a minute. In the meantime I text three other parent friends to see if they know the address. No answer. Ok, so now fifteen minutes have passed and there's still no answer. Should I start knocking on doors? No, probably too soon for that.
The thing is, in the greater scheme of things fifteen minutes isn't really all that long, but when you have realised that you have no idea where your baby is it can seem like a very long time indeed.
Looking at it rationally there was nothing to worry about it, but I can happily admit that when the mum did finally call me back ("Oh I'm so sorry I'd left my phone on charge etc etc") there was an enormous surge of relief.
Funny thing is though that these kinds of things make me realise how far I've moved on emotionally in the past year or so. Something like that would have thrown me into a complete panic last year, whereas this time I was able to rationalise and sit it out without losing it.
Still, next time she goes for tea I'll tattoo the address somewhere completely indelible. Just in case, you understand.