"I would miss you," my two-and-a-half-year-old son said today. My normally boisterous, daredevil child was clearly shaken after the two minutes we spent looking for each other in our mall's busy play area and food court.

This was the first time he had been "lost." I certainly hope it was the last, because I'm certain it took several hours for my heart rate and adrenalin levels to return to normal.

It's amazing how fast a toddler can disappear. My son was having a roaring good time in the mall's new play area, climbing on a enormous replica of a hamburger and crawling through a gigantic fake spilled soda. He thoroughly enjoyed sliding off the food toys into a heap on the floor.

I was chatting with a friend whose child had elected to play on the "pay-per-ride" toys right outside the free play area. It was hard to talk to her this way because I had to keep turning around to check on the boy to make sure he wasn't doing some kind of kamikaze leap off of a slice of pizza. I decided to just tell my friend about these two books I thought she might like to borrow and save the rest of the chatting for some other time. I kept turning around and turning back, and I had my back to the play area for less than one minute at a time. The entire conversation probably took less than three minutes. Then I turned back around to settle down in my seat. I scanned the area for the little boy in the red shorts.

I didn't see him.

I tried not to panic. I knew he'd been spending time on the floor so I thought he might be behind the ice cream cone or something. I called him and looked, and barely got a rise out of any of the other parents, which annoys me in retrospect. I made one trip around and couldn't believe it.

He just wasn't there.

My mind was racing and I was panicking. I knew he couldn't have gotten far - I still couldn't comprehend that he could have left the area at all in such a short amount of time. It crossed my mind that someone might have taken him.

It got hard to swallow.

The only woman in the play area that seemed to notice my plight said, "Is that him in the soda tunnel?" I didn't think he was there, but I didn't want to leave the play area without being sure he wasn't in it, so I wasted valuable time and looked. There was one ten-year-old boy the tunnel. Not my son.

I ran out of the play area and scanned the crowded food court for small red shorts. I met the eyes of two women who were pushing strollers. Between them and me was my son.

I hurried and scooped him up, some 15 feet beyond the play area's exit. I said, "What were you doing out here!?" to him. I'm sure my voice was stressed.

One of the two women replied in a rather condescending manner, "Looking for you!"

I tried to thank them (I think I got the words out) and returned my attention to my rather stunned looking son.

"Honey, I was right in the play area. I never left. You should never leave the play area without me."

He said, "I would miss you."

My heart broke.

Although my son and I have been battling our way through the terrible twos, there it was, the truth laid out there.

"I would miss you."

I tried not to cry as we walked back into a cheerful world of oversized food. I'm not the crying type.

"I would miss you too, honey."