If your kid goes missing, don’t tell Nancy Grace
At some point in your life as a parent, you’re going to misplace your child. It may occur in a crowded mall or a parking lot. Late on a Friday night after a few drinks it can even happen in your living room. Most of the time they’ll turn back up more scared than you were. That is unless they’re fucking with you in which case you’ll need to administer a stern warning hopefully accompanied with a bit of revenge.
Fear is part of being a parent and nothing is worse than the fear of actually loosing a child. Those few minutes that cause you to hold your child’s hand in every public setting for the following six months are devastating. Thousands of different scenarios will go play out in your mind from a creepy old guy with candy in his pocket, to an alternate reality where maybe you never actually had a child to start with. It’s always best to refrain from thinking about lotion and baskets but some of you will go there first just because I brought it up.
In the end, what you’re going to end up with are a bunch of tears and a moment of relief that will cause you to schedule a physical the following day. If that’s the worst thing that ever happens to you and your kid, then you’re not doing all that bad. I lost a kid once for an entire Sunday morning. A member of our family took her from the sitter to a Pentecostal Holiness church. It’s hard to make a kidnapping charge stick with you find the kid dressed in her Sunday best, but I still feel like I should get reimbursed for the therapy it took to erase the memories of snakes and pew jumpers. Speaking of nutbags…
The most import thing to remember is when your kid goes missing, under no circumstances should you ever call Nancy Grace. You’ll be dealing with a simple case of a toddler hiding in a clothing rack in Macy’s and she’ll go live on three networks just to make you look like an asshole. Within a matter of minutes you could be dealing with allegations of your collaboration with a security guard you never made eye contact with, who wants to help you collect on a life insurance policy you never purchased, so you can afford to run away with someone you’ve never met. We get it Nancy, you have a hard on for missing kids and shitty parents. If you would just admit that there would be no need to yell fake facts and your crazy eye’d opinion at people who are much smarter than you. Her best defense against admitting her ignorance is to say more dumb shit louder than anyone else on camera. I’d have more respect for her if she would go back to her Gypsy roots and to sell potions and elixirs off the back of a covered wagon. Then anytime a kid went missing we could just accuse her of selling into to slavery.