An ear-splitting wail echoed through the house as I entered. I had never realized a baby could cry like that!

“Oh, honey,” I said to my wife, Abby, who was sitting in the kitchen with her head in her hands. “How long has Logan been crying?”

An ear-splitting wail echoed through the house as I entered. I had never realized a baby could cry like that!

“Oh, honey,” I said to my wife, Abby, who was sitting in the kitchen with her head in her hands. “How long has Logan been crying?”

I held Abby tightly and tried to soothe her, but I was keenly aware of Logan’s continued wails from the nursery.

“Come,” I offered Abby my hand. “We’ll go together and see if we can’t figure out what the little guy wants.” Abby nodded and let me lead her to the nursery.

As we approached the crib, the relentless crying seemed to get louder. I could feel Abby’s anxiety as she clung to my hand.

“Hey, Logan,” I called as I approached the crib. The solid wooden end hid the baby from view. “It sounds like you and Mama have been having a really bad day, little man. Maybe Daddy can figure out a way to help you both, huh?”

I put my hands over my eyes as I took the final step toward the crib.

“Where’s my little nugget?” I asked cheerfully. I flipped my hands open in classic peek-a-boo style and cried, “There he is!”

But all I was met with was a shocking discovery.

Logan wasn’t in the crib.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I spun around, searching the room with frantic eyes, hoping against hope that I had somehow missed him.

“Abby!” I called out, my voice trembling. “Logan’s not here!”

Abby’s face drained of color. “What do you mean he’s not there? He was there all day, I swear!”

We both started tearing the nursery apart, looking under blankets, in the closet, behind the rocking chair. Panic surged through me as the crying continued, but now it seemed to be coming from another part of the house.

“Where is he?” Abby screamed, her voice laced with hysteria.

I tried to calm her, though my own heart was racing. “Stay here and keep looking. I’m going to check the rest of the house.

I ran through the hallway, following the sound of Logan’s cries. It led me to the laundry room. As I opened the door, I was met with the most unexpected sight.

There, in the laundry basket among the clothes, was Logan, still wailing his heart out. My neighbor, Mrs. Thompson, stood there, holding him gently, trying to comfort him.

“Mrs. Thompson?” I asked, completely bewildered. “What are you doing here? And why do you have Logan?”

She looked up, equally surprised to see me. “Oh, dear! I didn’t realize you were home. I heard the poor little one crying from my backyard and came over. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in. I was just trying to help.”

Relief flooded through me. “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson. We’ve been going out of our minds trying to figure out what was wrong.”

I took Logan from her arms, his crying easing as he nestled into my chest. Mrs. Thompson patted my shoulder. “He’s probably just colicky. Sometimes they cry and cry no matter what you do. Just hold him close, and he’ll settle down eventually.”

I nodded, grateful for her kindness. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”

As I carried Logan back to the nursery, Abby rushed to us, tears of relief streaming down her face. “Oh, thank goodness! Where was he?”

“In the laundry room with Mrs. Thompson. She heard him crying and came over to help.”

Abby hugged us both tightly. “I was so scared.”

I kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay now. We’re going to get through this together.”

We spent the rest of the evening holding Logan, taking turns rocking him and singing softly until he finally drifted off to sleep. As the house grew quiet, I knew that no matter how tough things got, we had each other. And that was enough to get us through anything.