My Wonder Where They’ve Gone list is ever-lengthening: time, my memory, the ability to read fine print, my waistline. Kindly, my friends hold up their own lists to comfort me. A string of items recently added to mine have left me scratching my head. Tangible things…that must be here somewhere!
In January, the red scarf with a heart design I’d knitted to wear in February was nowhere to be found. Missing about the same time was a library book I had checked out for Dearly Beloved, but after he decided not to read it, I left it on the coffee table with several others for a couple of days. I remember putting on my coat, grabbing the books and my keys. After that, it’s like I entered a black hole. The other books I returned that day made it. I didn’t realize this one hadn’t until an overdue notice arrived.
Today I went on an all-out hunt, looking under sofa cushions (hey, Pogo–I found your little brown Mexican train!) I looked in drawers and closets, beside and under beds, even in the bathrooms. I searched the garage, in case I’d set it down to open the gate. No book.
I’ve been sharing my frustration with my friends, who have been offering suggestions, the most persistent one being to look under the car seats. Again. I searched both cars. Under my car seat, I pulled out an empty water bottle and a Diet Coke can, a three-year-old note to the vet, a McDonald’s french fries container, expired coupons, and my childhood sandbox shovel. No kidding. It’s a little rusty shovel that I used in my sandbox as a kid. (cue The Twilight Zone music, please)
I looked in tote bags, handbags, and pockets. No book.
Discouraged, I switched gears and put out another APB on the heart scarf. The last time I remember wearing it was on our trip to Indiana. I’d packed it away during the trip. I pulled out my suitcase and looked for the fourth time. Still empty.
When we travel, DB and I stuff things into each other’s bags, depending on who has the most room. I pulled out his suitcase. There, in one of the zipped pockets, was my red scarf. Wait! Hell’s bells… and my bedroom shoes. my cream turtleneck, and my red sweater. (Guess he doesn’t unpack that which does not belong to him!) Buoyed, we searched all the luggage. No book.
I donned my red sweater and Valentine scarf and we went out to lunch, then to the library to search the shelves. Perhaps they’d made a mistake and shelved it without checking it in. Apparently not.
I sent a whiny e-mail to friends, who, blank on further ideas, elicited suggestions from their husbands. I looked on every bookshelf in the house, as one recommended. No library book.
The last suggestion came from Beanie’s husband, the winner of the first DuhMENtia award. Remember him–the guy who searched for his missing blue shirt for several hours, only to realize he was wearing it? A commenter referred to him as Mr. Blue Shirt. I like it, but it’s too long, so I’ll abbreviate.
His BS advice?
“Look in your lap. Maybe you’re reading it now.”