I was at work today, and I heard a commotion starting over by the assignment desk. Things always get a little hectic when news is breaking. One person on the desk shouted out, "I'm getting reports of possible shots fired at..." and then he said the name of my daughter's high school.
That perked my ears up. Uh oh. Did I need to worry?
I tried to keep doing my job while keeping one ear open for more updates on what was actually going on. They were calling around to the police departments, trying to get what they'd heard on the police scanner confirmed.
I was hoping that everything was fine, and my daughter was in no danger. School should have let out more than an hour ago, so whatever shots fired probably happened after school, and she doesn't have school spirit or do after school activities. She wouldn't be there.
But they kept talking about it over there. They were sending a crew to get video. They had the chopper in route to get video.
That's when I realized that I was being stupid. It's not 1992 when I graduated high school. I don't have to sit around and wait for the news to tell me if my daughter is safe. I can just text her. So, I did. I kept it vague, so I could skip telling her about a shooting at her school if possible.
It only took a moment for her to respond.
And now my fears could be forgotten. Isn't modern technology wonderful. It may have its drawbacks, but the ability to put worries to bed with a simple text message is certainly nice.
I started typing up a response to her.
Interestingly, I found myself welling up with tears as I wrote the words, "just needed to hear you respond." My child, my baby was okay. It had been really unlikely that she wasn't, but I just wanted to know for sure.
After all the years of bringing her up from a squalling newborn, to a precocious child, to the amazing quasi-adult that she has become. I love her so much that the very idea of there being a possible threat on her life fills my eyes with tears just to consider. Sometimes it really is nice just to be able to have a response from somebody that you love. Even if the response is simply:
My cryptic response back to her got her curious, though.
She wanted to know what her weird dad was up to. I told her that the assignment desk was saying there had been some kind of shooting at her school, but I didn't really know anything about it, and I just wanted to make sure she was safe.
Now, she was really curious. So, she went looking for some kind of word on what was going on. Of course, for the most part, word of these kinds of goings on would come from us, the people in the building I work in who were at that moment still in the dark. So:
I didn't have any info to tell her.
Then, at last, we found out what had really gone on.
How did a nosebleed get confused with a shooting? Are we just too jumpy in our society now, and anytime a car backfires we dive for cover? What kind of a nosebleed necessitates an ambulance? I don't know. Must have been the mother of all nosebleeds. I saw video of the kid in the ambulance, being looked over by paramedics.
Silly. They got me all worried and seeing my daughter's life flash before my eyes for nothing. If only I could be like all the other parents from the high school, the ones who don't work in a newsroom and remain blissfully unaware that anything like this even happened. The nosebleed sure wasn't going to make the news.
That perked my ears up. Uh oh. Did I need to worry?
I tried to keep doing my job while keeping one ear open for more updates on what was actually going on. They were calling around to the police departments, trying to get what they'd heard on the police scanner confirmed.
I was hoping that everything was fine, and my daughter was in no danger. School should have let out more than an hour ago, so whatever shots fired probably happened after school, and she doesn't have school spirit or do after school activities. She wouldn't be there.
But they kept talking about it over there. They were sending a crew to get video. They had the chopper in route to get video.
That's when I realized that I was being stupid. It's not 1992 when I graduated high school. I don't have to sit around and wait for the news to tell me if my daughter is safe. I can just text her. So, I did. I kept it vague, so I could skip telling her about a shooting at her school if possible.
And now my fears could be forgotten. Isn't modern technology wonderful. It may have its drawbacks, but the ability to put worries to bed with a simple text message is certainly nice.
I started typing up a response to her.
Interestingly, I found myself welling up with tears as I wrote the words, "just needed to hear you respond." My child, my baby was okay. It had been really unlikely that she wasn't, but I just wanted to know for sure.
After all the years of bringing her up from a squalling newborn, to a precocious child, to the amazing quasi-adult that she has become. I love her so much that the very idea of there being a possible threat on her life fills my eyes with tears just to consider. Sometimes it really is nice just to be able to have a response from somebody that you love. Even if the response is simply:
My cryptic response back to her got her curious, though.
She wanted to know what her weird dad was up to. I told her that the assignment desk was saying there had been some kind of shooting at her school, but I didn't really know anything about it, and I just wanted to make sure she was safe.
Now, she was really curious. So, she went looking for some kind of word on what was going on. Of course, for the most part, word of these kinds of goings on would come from us, the people in the building I work in who were at that moment still in the dark. So:
I didn't have any info to tell her.
Then, at last, we found out what had really gone on.
How did a nosebleed get confused with a shooting? Are we just too jumpy in our society now, and anytime a car backfires we dive for cover? What kind of a nosebleed necessitates an ambulance? I don't know. Must have been the mother of all nosebleeds. I saw video of the kid in the ambulance, being looked over by paramedics.
Silly. They got me all worried and seeing my daughter's life flash before my eyes for nothing. If only I could be like all the other parents from the high school, the ones who don't work in a newsroom and remain blissfully unaware that anything like this even happened. The nosebleed sure wasn't going to make the news.
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