I am not one of those people who deals with being uncomfortable very well. For example, when I was about six I had the stomach flu. So like any other six year old would do when she is sick, I was watching my favorite Disney movie, Peter Pan. So there I was half asleep and being dramatically miserable on my parents bed. My mom walked upstairs and peaked into the bedroom to let me know they were going to go and drop some cookies off at our friends house who lived two doors down and that if i needed anything that they would be outside the house. I mumbled okay without really listening to what she had said and went back to watching my movie.

Once the movie was over, I pulled myself up from my mess of fuzzy blankets and stuffed animals and dragged myself downstairs to the kitchen to get some juice. I started moaning, “MOooMM!” across the house and eventually came to the conclusion that everyone was gone. Being half asleep and sick, I wasn’t thinking straight and then came to the conclusion that something bad had happened to my parents.

I sprinted to the phone and dialed 911. The phone was ringing and ringing and finally I a woman say, “911 what’s your emergency?” Sobbing into the phone I told her that my parents had been stolen and that I was all alone at home with my dog.

Then she told me to go look what color car I had in my driveway because I only knew my street and not my full address. I told her that there was a green big car in my driveway in between sobs.

She said that she would send someone there immediately. So i went and curled up next to my dog and cried until I heard the sirens blaring down my street. Meanwhile, while all this was happening my parents were standing in my neighbors driveway chatting. As they saw the ambulance and fire truck pass them, they both looked at each other and watched as the unit stopped in front of their house and police officers rushed towards the front door.

They ran back to the house and starting asking what was going on. Then a police officer came out of the garage with a crying six year old by his side. I rushed to my dad and he picked me up and asked if everything was okay. He and the police officer started talking and figured out that it was all just a big misunderstanding. At the time, I had almost stopped crying and my dad then decided that the whole thing was hilarious and he and the officer starting laughing about it. That made me start crying again because I was so embarrassed. Eventually the police officer left, and my parents and I went back inside. My dad and I started talking, and he told me that it was all okay and that it was just a misunderstanding. After I was feeling a little bit better, I went back upstairs to rewind my Peter Pan movie and fell asleep after my very eventful day.