Remember the first time you got lost?

When I was 5 or 6 my dad took me fishing on a pier on a California beach. It was to be one of those father – son bonding experiences. As the story goes, we walked out on the pier a ways and parked ourselves down next to a green trashcan to fish. You have to imagine how quick a 5 year old will lose interest in holding a stick with string and looking at the water.
 
It wasn’t long before I had to relieve myself. My dad had come to fish, not babysit. He pointed down the length of the pier and told me there was a restroom in the shack at the beginning of the pier. Quite responsibly he pointed at the green trashcan he was standing beside. He said simply walk to the shack and come back to the green trashcan. He would be there. That made sense to me.
 
I walked on down and took care of business. Upon leaving the shack, I looked down the mile long pier and saw what seemed like hundreds of green trashcans. I lost it. I cried and then cried some more. The manager at the shack brought me back inside and fed me ice cream to keep me quiet.
 
The manager announced on the load speaker they had a lost child and would someone come claim me. I cried some more and my dad didn’t come. He didn’t hear, but he did keep fishing. So I ate ice cream and dad fished for a few hours. It came time to go home and dad came by the shack and picked me up.
 
My dad wasn’t much of a worrier. He figured things just worked out for the better. This time it did. I got free ice cream. Dad got fish. We both remembered the experience. I’ve been lost since then, but never got free ice cream again.