Yesterday, I asked a neighbor, whose son is the same age as mine, if he would pick up my son and allow him to stay at their house, since my daughters had an afterschool activity and I had to finish work. He agreed. I left him my cell number in case there were any problems.
Today, at 3:30, my ex-wife calls in a rage; rightfully so. Another parent found my son, sitting on the playground in the rain, crying.
The neighbor had left him behind.
There's a special place in hell for a grown man who fails a child like this. For someone who lacks the basic common sense to GET OUT OF YOUR CAR and CALL THE CHILD'S NAME if you do not see them right away. Leaving the task of looking for my son to his eight-year old son is unacceptable. I trusted him with my youngest child. If I were picking up his kids, I would not leave the school ground until I found them.
As would any responsible adult.
And no...he never even called me.
A special place, in a lake of fire.