Don't Panic!

I live on a dirt road, so when someone flys by, skids to a stop, and parks in front of your house, you take notice.  Then when the pounding of their frantic fists hit your door, the adrenaline kicks in.  I raced to the back door and open it to have my girlfriend from down the road and her hubby, who's a paramedic, almost bumb rushing me to get in.  I don't even think I got the words What's up? out of my mouth before they clamored to find out what was wrong.

What's wrong?  Is everyone ok?  Is Andante reacting?

Nothing, why? No, he's fine...we're all fine.  We're having lunch.

Did you call 911?

Uh, no.  Did you?

You're sure nothing's wrong?  D's ok?  He's not reacting?

Seriously, nothing is wrong.  D's fine; in his room taking a nap.

Once I convinced my friends that there was not an emergency here, just a ticked off little boy who didn't want to take his nap whailing from his bed, we ran around to the front of the house to thwart off the ambulance.  Instead of it turning towards my house, it turned the opposite way at the crossroad.

Come to find out, the dispatcher had gotten the wrong house number.  A little old lady in need who's last 2 digits of her house number is the same ours...though ours is minus an extra number in front, and about 300 numbers less than hers, but who's counting?

Needless to say, all the panic was for nothing, but it is sure sweet to know that if we ever do have an emergency with Dante, help will be here in the blink of an eye.

Thanks Sarah & John!  Definite props!


Seriously!

TinaMarie