38. The Household Item Hijack

Earlier this week I found myself kicking aside a cork hot pot trivet dealio in order to pull the front door open and head for work.  I walked toward the car thinking, “The stuff that just seems normal in my life at this point…”

Not really normal, I’m afraid.

Why is there a cork hot pot trivet thingie propped against my front door at 7 a.m.?  Why not?  The more appropriate question is actually why is this the first time I ever remember this happening?  Parents of boys certainly are used to collecting every other household item imaginable from wherever boys have dragged and dropped it.

If you find yourself asking these questions, I have composed a list of probable answers.  Based entirely on years of painful experience, of course:

  • Where is the laundry basket?  It’s in the boy’s bedroom, under the covers.  It is command central of forts used to war against ninja invaders.
  • Where is the all the silverware?  In the yard.  It’s always in the yard.
  • Has anyone seen my earphones?  They are wound endlessly around the cabinet doors where puzzles are kept, forming a chain of death that no sister could ever breech.
  • What happened to the new blue spatula?  It is in the bottom of the toy box.  There is no reasonable explanation for this.  Ever.

A couple of years ago we purchased new silverware to replace our “newlywed” set from like 1996.  We bought extra, of course, because of all the kids.  And the boys.  Sixteen small forks!  (The “salad” version that are the perfect kid-sized ones!)  Then one week, literally all at once, our drawer only held five.  These forks were not recovered gradually, collected one or two per each lawn mowing outing, as is typical with boy households everywhere.  No, these forks VANISHED into nothingness, and not a soul in our home has a clue.  ELEVEN SALAD FORKS HAVE ORGANIZED THEMSELVES AND SUCCEEDED IN AN ELABORATE ESCAPE PLAN.  Who knows.  Boys just give us the look.

The Great Fork Mystery of 2010 has never been solved.  I’m not saying boys did it… But I’m not saying girls did it, that’s for sure.  At any rate, if you discover a dozen small forks that don’t belong, you know where to find me.  For now, I’m going on a run with some Hello Kitty earphones jacked into my iPod.

Because you know where my good earphones are.

What about you, where do you find all your household items?

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8 thoughts on “38. The Household Item Hijack

  1. Since you’re not a mom with a purse, I have to tell you that this is what happens to our purses. We find the strangest things in there. Have you checked your wife’s purse for the forks??? I’m just asking. 🙂

    • Good call, Kirsten! I will check there… Honestly, the only thing we can imagine is that an entire handful of them got dumped in the trash. ELEVEN forks? Really?? It’s maddening. 🙂

  2. You need to list all the places you’ve found dirty socks. For example, I’m looking at a pair of dirty boy socks on the dashboard of the van. Cuz that’s where they go, right?

    Speaking from experience here, I’m guessing your spoons will follow the way of the forks before you know it. And yes, those forks probably are in the trash. I’ve seen them end up there plenty of times.

  3. Dude. I seriously just had a freak-out session with John over my headphones. It took 3 days for him to admit to taking him (the last pair of at least 6 that belonged to Dallas and I) and the subsequently getting his iPod stolen at school (who told him not to take it to school and certainly not to leave it on the bleachers while he played soccer at lunch?) Frick. I had to go buy a pair before I could go running…at least you had Hello Kitty.

  4. It is not just household items. It is household garbage as well. All five of my boys, at some point, have raided the garbage for that one item they needed to make who knows what. You know that saying “one man’s garbage is another man’s treasure”, it has a whole new meaning with little boys.

  5. Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s the only way to make the point.Larry O is a bottom feeedr. Fortunately for him, there is a substanitial market for his type in Grand Forks. Anybody who ever attended The Backdoor Bar could tell you that.

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