Thursday, September 22, 2016

The mystery of the stuff that's disappeared in our house

I was pretty sure nobody had broken into our house and stolen my tweezers. But where were they? As I finally got around to tending to my brows the other night, my trusty Tweezermans were not in their usual spot in the medicine chest.

I have been known to leave my cell phone in the fridge and my wallet in the car trunk, but my tweezers always stay in the bathroom. I looked everywhere. Nope: Not beneath the sink, not in our bedroom, not in Ben's room. Sabrina hadn't used them for some craft project. Dave hadn't used them for who knows what.

Weirdly, this was the second pair that had disappeared in the last year. And it was highly unlikely that both had been snatched by some crook in dire need of a good brow plucking.

Our house is hardly tremendous, which makes all the stuff that gets lost in it even more perplexing. A couple of months ago, I ordered some extra boxes of contact lenses online; they are nowhere to be found. I spent close to an hour this summer searching for two tubes of organic sunscreen I'd bought for the kids. Gone. Random gift cards I know I never used: gone. My orange leather business card holder, a tote bag, a cute white blouse, my high-school yearbook, our stepladder, the pint of white paint for touching up trim, the kit for hanging framed pictures, a Post-it with notes from an important doctor appointment which is what I get for writing them on a Post-it: gone, gone, gone.

The caboose part of Ben's favorite toy train is missing, along with a bazillion tiny toy pieces plus the white ladder that goes of one of Max's fire trucks. My favorite screwdriver (yes, I have a favorite screwdriver) has been AWOL for a couple of years now. Gifts I bought ahead of time for people then stored them: Where are you?!

Also: Someone in our house eats pens. Which is the only logical conclusion I can come to, given the fact that whenever I'm on the phone and need to jot something down, there is no pen anywhere.

I am a pretty organized person. I grew up with a loving father who happened to be a hoarder, one reason why my happy place is one in which stuff is neatly arranged—and there. When something goes missing, I feel unhinged, as if I am slowly but surely losing my mind. That feeling is compounded by the fact that when I'm looking around for whatever it is that's lost, I tend to mutter to myself, tug at my hair and occasionally wail "Where is it?"

And I am always the one in our family trying to track down lost objects, because nobody else ever seems all that concerned, although when my eyebrows get out of control everyone's gonna be very sorry. I assume, too, that if something major went missing—say, the coffee machine or our back deck—someone might help me find them.

I don't think anyone is playing a joke on me.

I am pretty sure there is no government conspiracy involved.

I do not believe in the supernatural or ghosts, who typically do not require brow maintenance, although there are online tutorials on using your psychic powers to find lost items. ("Start walking around the area where you think you probably lost your precious item and try to feel a tug in your midsection pulling you in the direction of your lost item. Or you might feel a hot or cold sensation telling you if you're near or far, respectively. You might feel a tingling sensation in your hands when you get close. Don't use your logic. Feel the tugging, temperature or tingle.")

On my list of stuff I wish would get lost: the cardboard box fire truck that has been gathering dust in Max's room, Sabrina's selfie stick, Ben's toy that makes obnoxiously loud animal sounds, all of the underwear with holes and Donald Trump.

I recently went through some of the kids' artwork and homework that I'd stored in our attic. When I opened up one folder, in between drawings of flowers and purple circles I found a pile of bills...dated 2013. Too bad my tweezers were not there, or any of that other stuff.

On the upside: I have yet to lose any of my children in the house. I know the precise location of the box of fancy paper straws and our stockpile of chocolate pudding cups, but if I told you I'd have to kill you. Heck, I even know what's in those two blue bins tucked up in the rafters of the garage (Girl Scout sit-upons and, um, I'll get back to you).

In other news: Have you seen my tweezers?


  1. And my good nail file...always missing!!! (But I have learned to search my pre-teen's bedroom...she is usually exploring the world of beauty, sigh)

  2. And the timing! The Bermuda triangle that lives in our house seems to collect things whenever we are trying to get out the door in the morning. Random lunches, textbooks and sneakers that were all find-able the night before have all walked off by the time morning comes (maybe they all play at night ala Toy Story???) - Alyssa

  3. I've lost stuff before and had it show up an hour later in the spot I just searched. Am I hallucinating?

  4. This is hysterical! I was just looking for my tweezers yesterday, and as usual, they're lost. Same for Scotch tape. And pens. Sigh...

    1. I was looking for my tweezers the other day - I finally said I was going to buy a new set, and then I found them. Not sure if reverse psychology works on inanimate objects, but it's worth a shot! And Scotch tape is the worst!! I know I bought a bunch when it was in sale after Christmas, so where is it? Too funny!

  5. I know this has nothing to do with your post. How are Max and Sabrina liking the new school year? It must be nice for you to have some peace and quiet for a few hours to get stuff done and to cuddle with Ben of course! Is Sabrina going to go to high school in 2 years? Max is turning 14 this December. Next year he will be high school age, will he stay at the same school?

  6. I often lose my nail clippers and tweezers. Also at the mention of Girl Scout sit upons- pretty sure the one I made in 1st grade still exists somewhere

  7. You know when I found everything? When my husband got a job in another state and we had to pack up and move out of our home of 30 years! Even the baby socks.

  8. What a six year old teaches us about acceptance and compassion

  9. I thought I'd lost my glasses recently, only then I felt on my face and was like "ohhh that's why. I was wearing them!" This is what happens when I'm sleep deprived and generally stupid with things like this.


Thanks for sharing!

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