The Art of Losing Things: Part Two

Warning label: This may or may not be a rant. I don't know yet. The haze of a justifiable parental lecture is still simmering at an above average temperature in the temporal regions of my self. I am indulging in the silence of the house as it sleeps around me. And...I find my thoughts whirling around the contents of today.

First, I discovered that once again, my credit card had decided to abandon ship somewhere along the route that is my life. I do have an oversized purse that over the course of the day contains my lunch, purse, keys, books, work papers and disk drives, kids paraphanalia and those plastic thingamys that you really shouldn't lose. Except I lost it. I don't even have any idea where I lost it so that meant a call to the bank to cancel it and reorder. Sounds simple? It wasn't. I spend 35 minutes on hold, transferred phones and walked to and from a bus stop while dealing with it. Irritating but not earth shattering.

But HOW did I lose it? I have been very good about putting it in the same spot. It goes into a purse that has a clasp that actually latches. So, if it was there the last time I looked for it. WHY is it not there now? No one knows. I have a house full of I don't know, not me and what?

If that were all that this family of mine lost today...I would be less disgruntled. However, I went to get their dance stuff ready for the week only to discover that in addition to losing a Triple Flip outfit three weeks or so ago, they have now between them, managed to lose their entire dance bag. That bag had dance wear, two pairs of tap shoes and goodness knows what else. Probably PJ's, homework and ripped tights. So, still not overly concerned, I drove down to the studio to look for it. The bag is nowhere to be found. Checked with security who know nothing about it. Checked the house a million times (OK four but it felt like a million). Phoned my friends who now think I am completely mad.

Again, the question is HOW did they lose it? It must be an art. They happen to leave things right where people think that a miracle has happened and that the finders simply have to keep their stuff. They have created the black hole of "I must have new shoes at any cost". Perhaps they have a secret teleporter and their clothes go into a galaxy far far away. Oh and don't get me started on those asinine creatures of the dryer. Dryer Gremlins: I want my socks back. All the single socks that you have pinched over the weekend. I would appreciate one matching pair.
enchanteddollartistsconference.org

Result: I found tap shoes in the bag of too big shoes that will have to do, they will wear older clothes, they will pay for any replacements out of birthday money and I intend to attack the gremlins with a baseball bat and screw driver. That in itself is art.

And lastly Google Sock Gremlin...I was surprised at how infested our homes are!