Lost and Found

...september 16, 2011...day 94...

When I was growing up, my father had the seemingly aggravating habit of blaming lost possessions on his children.  Even after we had all moved out, you could still hear him cry angrily, "Now who took my _________??" Now that he has no one to blame but his wife (sorry about that Chris) and the Twilight Zone I think he is finally breaking the habit.  However, to my amazement, I now am seeing this same delusion beginning to take root here in my own mind as I deal with a burglar under our very own roof.  

Luke loves to pick up interesting things, carry them around the house, and then hide them - er, I mean put them - in a different location which makes sense to only him.  For example, after cooking a meal Monday evening, I could not find the top to a spice jar.  After turning the house upside down, I finally just covered the jar with plastic wrap and put it away.  Three days later, I came across the missing cap mysteriously lying inside of a cooking pot in the back of a cupboard on the other side of the kitchen.  Given the fact that Toby lacks opposable thumbs, I am blaming Luke for this one.

This morning when Alisha dropped Matthew off at our house, Luke took the opportunity to search for treasures in Matthew's diaper bag while the two moms were busy chatting.  When it came time for Matthew to have a meal, I could not find any of his food or his formula anywhere in the house.  I looked and looked until I was about ready to scream, finally getting down on my hands and knees and crawling around the house saying, "if I was a toddler what would I do...??" Call me insane (because I was), but it finally worked.

Dad, I just want to say, I'm sorry I ever judged you.

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