Upon a warm day at the culdesac I say to Lorin, "just let Izzy try your remote control car..." with lots of reasons to deflect Lorin's complaints about Izzy not knowing what she's doing with it. With a "fine, but just for a few seconds" out of Lorin, Izzy licked her lips and took the controller in hand. I am not kidding, she pushed the lever and we all watched in horror as it headed straight for the huge street drain (Texas style street drain--you can't see it just below the curb, but a 5 year old child could easily slip down the big slot). Lorin and I let out a few squeeks and I think I said "stop her Cory" since he was the closest to Izzy. But it all happened so fast and before we knew it the car was gone with an echoing clack after a long fall.
Lorin ran to the drain in all her dramatic glory, fell to her knees, put her fists to the top of her head and let out blood-curdling "no....no....no" and on and on. Meanwhile a classic Izzy moment--not a word or change in expression.
"I think it's gone" came from Cory. I mentioned the possibility of holding on to Izzy's legs to see if she could reach it--not thinking too clearly--perhaps a bit unnerved by Lorin's wretchings. But we could still hear it down there when we pushed the lever on the controller, and we determined it had turned over onto its back. So we decided to pass an Operation Remote-Control Car rescue bill. After 5 or 6 trips back and forth from the garage, we came up with the right assortment of tools (many not pictured) to get the man-hole opened and a ladder. Here's where, according to the fair madens watching, a hero emerged. Cory climbed deep into middle-earth and re-appeared triumphant, remote-control car in hand...never again to be an ordinary dad...rather a real-life hero!!
Lorin noted a stronger family bond shortly thereafter!
