“Mommy, Mommy, come quick!” my daughter shrieked at the top of her lungs while taking her nightly shower, her voice piercing so loudly I suspected the worst.
“What’s wrong?” I instinctively screamed back, simultaneously closing my computer, jumping up from the couch, and running towards the kids’ bathroom, just barely catching myself after tripping over a rogue backpack left lying in the middle of the hallway and half stumbling through the door.
“Are you okay, love?” I asked, slightly out of breath and looking through the shower steam for anything awry.