Today I realized how difficult being in quarantine is for my children. Case in point: my sister called me in need of some assistance assembling an office desk they had recently acquired. My son Matthew overheard my conversation and begged to go, so that he could play with his cousins. We wanted more than anything for him to be able to, but we just couldn't take any chances of him bringing something home the girls would catch. He of course was sad, and threw a healthy fit in frustration. I left a few minutes later in a rush so that I could get back and cook dinner. The drive would take close to twenty minutes. On approaching my sister's house, I get a call from home asking if I took Matthew with me. I replied "no," and that I thought Matthew had probably went to hide somewhere and was in the process of simmering down. I hung up the phone; as I made a left handed turn looking to my right, slightly over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of something that startled me. It was Matthew's legs, laying perfectly still as if he were a character out of a gangster movie settled in the car's trunk. I gathered myself enough to get it on video.....he had no idea I got him on film. I explained to him later the many dangers he may have encountered had I not discovered him there. However, I still laughed at his version of a "jail break."