Why Can't I Microchip My Kid?

Fear. Dread. Near Panic.

That’s how I felt last night, thinking about Isaiah’s first day at day camp. Then I woke up at o-dark-thirty to worry some more. It’s a public park, with no electric fences safety perimeters to keep them in, or bad guys out. With horror, I realized he hasn’t memorized my cell phone number yet, so it’s written on a card in his pocket. Of course, my mind is crawling with worst case scenarios. Abductions. Run away tanker trucks. NAMBLA conventions.

I can microchip my dog, so why can’t I microchip my kids?? My car has Lo-Jack, but I’m not allowed to install it on my kids? Something’s wrong here. Is there someone, somewhere that makes money on lost kids? Is it like refusing to cure the common cold, because too many medicine companies would go out of business?

Of course I worry about Daimean, but not quite as much. He’s been at this camp for a few years and knows his way around. He can swim. Isaiah can’t swim, but he thinks he can. I’m afraid that he’s going to go jump in the deep water and those lazy, good for nothing lifeguards will be too worried about looking cute to care. And Daimean’s got a cell phone, which he could use, say, if he was abducted and locked in someone’s trunk.

Yeah, I’m going to go back to worrying now.