Oh. My. GOD.

I went to pick up DD1 from camp just before 4 p.m. I came home with her, and D. met me at the garage door, arms wide open. "Hello!" he said. I gave him a hug, spoke to Mr. WG who was sitting in his office (he works from home, have we talked about that?), and went to get baby J. I found DD2 upstairs with the nanny and left baby J. up there to play. For a minute, I forgot that I had JUST SEEN D. DOWNSTAIRS, and I asked the nanny if D. had somehow deigned to take a nap. She said he was with his father.

I went back downstairs and stuck my head in Mr. WG's office. "Where's D?"

No answer.

"No seriously, where's D?"

"Upstairs."

I go through all the downstairs rooms, then rush back to Mr. WG's office. "You haven't seen D?" I ask calmly shriek. Now he takes me seriously and we both race through the house.

Suddenly, it hits me. "The garage," I yell. "The car, check the car!" and as Mr. WG is going to do that, I open the side door and see D. ON THE DRIVEWAY playing with the trash can.

Boy oh boy, did Mr. WG let him have it. "NO!" He shouted. "NO NO NO NO NO!" And D. cried.

But my heart is still racing -- especially when you consider that to get outside, my kid had to UNLOCK THE DOOR.

THERE IS A REASON 2-YEAR-OLDS AREN'T TALL ENOUGH TO REACH THESE THINGS.