"We Lost" because she had no idea she was lost in the first place. So I can't blame her and say "The Time Corinne Got Lost at the Aquarium" because she wasn't lost; she knew where she was the whole time. But I digress...
The summer after 8th grade, my family vacationed in California. We had fun in the sun, along with some carsickness while driving US 101/CA 1 from San Francisco to Monterey, where we met up with some family.
We visited the Monterey Bay Aquarium. I remember they had a big jelly fish exhibit, a place to pet rays, a penguin exhibit, and a tide pool, among others.
Toward the end of the visit, we were gathering up everyone to go to lunch. Everyone was accounted for, except my 7-year-old sister, Corinne. We went back to the last exhibit, but she was nowhere in sight. Since penguins were her favorite animal, we checked that area, but she wasn't there, either.
My parents decided to have her name announced over the loud speakers. "Corinne, please meet your family under the giant whales." There were two life-size whale sculptures hanging from the ceiling close to the exit. We waited for a few minutes, but she didn't show. They made the announcement again, but still no Corinne.
We were starting to worry; I mean, she had probably been kidnapped. We had been warned two years previous on our Disney World trip that people will snatch up children, take them into the bathroom, change their hair color and clothes, and kidnap them. We sent out search parties to look for her throughout the aquarium.
I don't remember how many times her name was announced or how long we waited, but after what seemed like eternity, Corinne comes ambling up to us, like nothing's wrong! "Where have you been?!?" we shrieked. "Uuuhh," she looks at us like we're bonkers, "in the gift shop." For reference, the whales meeting place was immediately outside the gift shop, so clearly, no one had thought to look for her there.
It ends up, she went into the gift shop, thinking that's the natural end to a day at the aquarium. To her credit, it was in our family--we love souvenirs, or at least browsing through knick knacks, trinkets, and other kitsch. So how no one considered she might be there, I'll never know.
She actually heard announcements over the loud speakers. "I always listen to those things, but they are never about me, so I'm not going to listen to them any more," she reasoned, continuing to browse. Oh, the rational mind of a 7-year-old.
She was scolded, and the three of us girls were instructed to always listen to announcements because you never know when one will be about you.
