By the time I heard the refrigerator door open for the fifth time in less than a minute, I knew what was next. Footsteps were heading in my direction, just like clockwork.
“Mom,” Older Boy asked, “Where’s the ketchup?”
There are only two possible answers to this question at our house – the fridge or the cabinet. Being in charge of condiment procurement and storage, I knew the correct answer was the fridge.
“Follow me,” I said. I opened the door and scooted the single gallon of milk a mere three inches to the right on the shelf. This nearly imperceptible move immediately revealed a Costco-sized tankard of Heinz.
“Hmph,” he said grabbing the bright red plastic bottle filled with enough ketchup to liberally douse every French fry served on the 3-11 shift at any McDonalds. “I didn’t see it.”
The reason, of course, is obvious; I spend my free time moving household items around to confuse him.
But I’m starting to wonder if we need to schedule a family visit at the eye doctor. Because Younger Boy and The Husband also routinely experience this unique visual disturbance when looking for things.
Just last week, I heard what sounded like cabinet doors opening and closing in the other room. A few minutes later, Younger Boy entered the room where I was sitting and asked, “Have you seen my tuba?”
Pause for a moment, if you will.
A tuba is not your typical household item. Nor is it a diminutive and easily misplaced musical instrument like, say, a clarinet or kazoo. When properly housed in its case, it bears an uncanny resemblance to a Volkswagen parked in a corner of my living room. So, yes, not only have I seen the tuba, I’ve tripped over it in the middle of the night most notably when Younger Boy deposited it in the center of the room. At those moments in the dark of the night, I’m not usually referring to it as a tuba.
“Follow me,” I told Younger Boy, walking toward the living room. He nearly tripped over it when we entered the room.
“So that’s where it is,” he said with relief. “I didn’t see it.”
So I wasn’t the least bit surprised the next morning when The Husband walked in the kitchen and asked, “Have you seen my wallet?”
Of course I’d seen it, when I was removing a couple of twenties.
“It’s on your desk.”
“I just looked,” he told me. “It’s not there.”
“Follow me,” I said. As we stood in front of his extremely tidy desk, I lifted a file folder to reveal his wallet.
“I didn’t see it,” he said grabbing his wallet and shoving it in his back pocket just before leaving the room.
I don’t know why they come in search of me when it’s time for Household Lost and Found. Apparently, they believe I’m equipped with a homing device. Sadly, boys, ovaries are not GPS enabled.
Then it dawned on me, eyesight isn’t the problem. Their vision is just fine. And it didn’t take a doctor visit to figure it out. It’s obvious.
They can always find me.
So I have a plan. I’m plastering a picture of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Model, Kate Upton, on every object they might need to find. I guarantee I’ll never have to look for anything again.
I speak from personal experience; it worked for me.
Because I haven’t misplaced my car keys once, – since I got my Brad Pitt keychain.