Kayla and I took Andrea to the park. I showed Andrea how to go down the slide and play with the playground toys. We visited the giant pine tree I used to climb. We sat on the hill in our sunglasses and marveled at how fast the grass turned that wonderful shade of green. Once it started sprinkling we went back to Kayla's house.
After a while we put Andrea down to bed and Kayla and I watched a chick flick she had recorded on TV. When it was time to go, I reached in my pocket to get my iPod and cue up a good song to play in the car. All I felt was the cold bumpy surfaces of coins and the fabric of my pants. I looked down at the couch. No iPod. I looked in the cracks of the cushions. No iPod. Kayla helped me. We looked under the cushions, behind the pillows, under the couch, under the rug, on the counter, in the bedroom, on the floor, on the bookshelf, on the sewing desk, under the oven, everywhere. No iPod.
We went back to the park. We kicked around woodchips while we scanned the entire playground. We looked under the tree and on the hill and in the grass. No iPod. We surrendered and got in the car so Kayla could take me home. I swear the entire car ride I couldn't breathe.
When I got home I went straight to bed. Without my iPod playing in my iHome, all I could hear was the constant loud hum of Mom's oxygen machine upstairs. I cried.