Lost in a Corn Maze

I have to admit; when I came across this story about the family who called 911 when they were lost in the corn maze, I completely got it.  And I could absolutely see myself in that exact predicament. My difference, though, would be to call my husband instead of 911.  I would assume the conversation would go something like this:

“Hi, Michael.  Umm, can you help me?  I am lost inside a corn maze.”
“I am somewhere inside a corn maze and can’t find my way out.  I need help.”
“Okay, let me spell this out for you.  I am inside a damn corn maze, I have to pee and unless you help me, I am going to call 911.”
“What corn maze?”
“The one off Hwy 48 – by the Harvest Farm Market.”
“Aren’t there other people around?”
“Well, probably. But obviously they figured their way out already.  Since I am still inside the thing, I must be in the part that is not the way out.  It is pretty big.  I think they said it covered 8 acres or so.”
“Did you try yelling?”
“No, I am not going to embarrass myself by doing that!”
“Oh, but you figure calling 911 wouldn’t be embarrassing, right?”
“Just get me out of here, okay?  I can do without the lecture.  Or at least wait until later; when I am out and after I go to the bathroom.”
“Exactly how am I supposed to help you?”
“I don’t know; use the GPS thingy or google satellite map or something.  I am wearing my purple shirt so I should be easy to spot.”
“Remember when you called me from the airport at 1:00 in the morning asking me to help you find where you parked your car?  Well, this is the same thing.  I couldn’t help you then and I can’t help you now.”
“Okay, but are you going to bring it up for the next 20 years like the airport thing?”
“Fine, bye.”

And then I would yell.   Or light a match if it was dark.

One response to “Lost in a Corn Maze

  1. I can so audio-ize (highly doubt that is a word but visualize doesn’t fit) you two having this conversation. 🙂

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