[Crowbob]

Being pronoid as opposed to paranoid, I see all things that happen as evidence of their being to my best benefit.

As such, even a simple emoji allows me to regurgitate further my meanderings of a failed life. So I continue with my tale.

I'll choose panic.

Panic descended upon me once, but briefly. Maybe more than once.

But this time, on our way to the beach one long ago summer. In that red truck we all stopped at 7-11. Attired only in her pink and purple swimsuit, my precious daughter escaped that truck whilst I shopped for an unhealthy mix of pop and chips and whatnots.

On my return, that truck was empty(!)

(The appropriate emoji goes here)

Then I heard her unmistakable crying. The first thing I saw, however, were silhouettes of perfectly-spaced, bright as blood and just as red, footprints of a child on the hot blacktop. They were perfectly spaced like bits of bread leading Gretel to the witches lair in the woods.

(Two emojis go here)

One foot only. The left, I think

As it turned out, my daughter and her older brother would not endure the heat inside that truck and took it upon themselves to go sit in the grass under that tree over there.

On their way, she stepped on a broken and jagged bottle severing an artery of her ankle to bleed appropriately therefrom.

Because the pressure of my hand and the quick tourniquet of towel stopped the flow, the blood quickly returned to my brain and she, two or three proud stitches later, was back to normal.

I, however, never did return to that blissful state of profound ignorance and paucity of vigilance I had previously enjoyed on our way to the beach that day.