It occurs to me that my mind isnâ€™t the only item thatâ€™s gone AWOL around here. If you spot any of the following, could you please return to me? I would offer a reward, but what could be more rewarding than my undying appreciation? Okay, fine. Iâ€™ll give you a cookie.
Amongst the missing:
My patience. The way to express to me that you love the dancing skeleton placemats and appreciate my having both purchased them on clearance last year and remembered to put them out this year is NOT to attempt to fill in all the little cut-out holes with bits of your breakfast. This results in you not eating your breakfast and a gigantic mess. Also, it angers the undead, who will now come kill you in your sleep. Yes, really. Well, you shouldâ€™ve thought of that before, I guess. Stop crying.
75% of the anti-reflective coating on my glasses. You know how they tell you only to use the special little cloth they give you with your glasses? And never dry wipe them, and donâ€™t use towels, and all that stuff? They werenâ€™t kidding. It turns out that after three years of misuse or so, most of the coating will wear off, yielding a bizarre sunburst pattern across the lenses. Itâ€™s hard to see through. So I will wipe them on my shirt hem, trying to improve their clarity. Oops.
Even the slightest head-nod to fitness. I hate to exercise. Sometimes I try to overcome that hate. Other times, I decorate my elliptical trainer with clothing that Iâ€™m too lazy to put away. About half my closet is hanging from the trainer right now.
The lids to half of my Tupperware smidgets. Destroyed in the dishwasher? Left at school? Thrown away by accident? Carried off by elves? The world may never know.
My ability to share. Honey graham Life cereal? Oh, you donâ€™t like that. Trust me. Have some Froot Loops, instead. Yeah, that other cereal tastes horrible. I had a coupon, but itâ€™s nasty. I should probably just throw it away. Or eat two bowls of it after I take you to school.
Five or so gloss sticks. I have a whole bunch of those lipsticks that come with one stick of color and then a stick of gloss to apply after youâ€™ve used the color that doesnâ€™t come off for several weeks. (Oh, look! Iâ€™ve still got a little â€œforever fawnâ€ on my lips from my interview two weeks ago!) At last check my make-up bag was chock-full of lipsticks with nary a gloss in sight. That would almost make sense, if I wore lipstick a lot. But I hardly ever wear it. Where have all the glosses gone?
Any desire I once had to finish cleaning out the basement. Hey, you can walk around down there, now. And I can find most of the stuff I actually use. It no longer stinks of dead mice. What more do you want?
The good thermometer. I suspect it to be colluding with the smidget lids. Now I am left with the thermometer that insists my temperature is around 96 degrees. Itâ€™s possible that Iâ€™ve been sending Monkey to school with a fever, but how would I know?
My illusion of being a mature adult. I should not laugh upon hearing that someone painted most of Daddyâ€™s kitchen with blue paint. First of all, itâ€™s not nice. Second of all, the children need to understand this is serious business. Third of all, karma is a bitch. (But it was funny.)
The box of staples. Theyâ€™re here, somewhere. I bought them. I refuse to buy more when there is a perfectly good (and mostly full) box lurking around. They canâ€™t hide from me forever, you know. Donâ€™t tell me how much a box of staples costs; this is a matter of principle.
My tact. Just kidding! You canâ€™t lose something you never had. Good lord, your ass looks HUGE in those pants. Do you even own a mirror?