Last Friday, I couldn't find Adam. Not upstairs. Not downstairs. Not in the backyard. Not at the neighbors' houses where he usually plays. Nowhere to be seen as I searched around the cul-de-sac (or "colder sack," as Zuzu likes to say).
OK. Keep calm. He must be here somewhere. Look downstairs again . . .
walk past the couch on the way to check the backyard again . . .
But wait. Is that a bit of blanket? . . .
Well! I should have thought to look for him asleep, face down, covered with a blanket, smashed behind a couch cushion in the first place, really.