1. Joel's cell phone. 2. Kepler's Sure Steps (foot braces he wears in his shoes). 3. A library book checked out by Anna-Jessie and overdue and unable to be renewed.
One of my most pettest peeves is not being able to find something. When something is missing here at home, I have my radar on almost all the time as I move about the house and I look and look and look and look. Now, almost all the time I find it.
1. Joel's cell phone has been missing for quite some time. He found it one Saturday, had it for an hour, and, sadly, lost it again. I've looked and looked but haven't been able to find it.
2. Kepler's Sure Steps, for which we were charged $1400 just over a year ago, were on his little feet last Thursday afternoon. Sadly, on Friday when it was time to put them on, they were nowhere to be seen.
3. Library book. Aargh. Not in sight.
The Fine Art of Looking for Missing Things mainly consists of leaving no stone (or shoe, or sock, or piece of furniture, or article of clothing) unturned. It also usually includes moving the furniture because I have found that is the best way to really find out what is underneath.
Over the past several days, I have conducted three archeological digs -- one in Eli's room, one in Joel's room, and one in the living room. Archeological digs consist of picking up every single thing in the room, throwing away the odd bits (or large bagsful) of trash, putting all the stuff that goes elsewhere, well, elsewhere, moving the furniture of course, and just generally putting things in order. And, a big goal of the digs is to make the floor clear, so that one could vacuum, or maybe walk.
These three rooms have been certified clear of the three missing objects. I do have two more rooms on this floor, but if the missing pieces are not there, then I have to descend (jaws music here) into the basement, that pit of packrattery, that den full of piles of everything.