If you’ve ever lost or misplaced anything, you know all too well the feeling that accompanies such an event. Panic. Disorientation. A general sense of woe-is-me.
No matter what else is going on around you — you could be leaving for a Hawaiian vacation, heading out to take a Calculus final, or meeting the queen of England — nothing takes precedence over finding the lost item.
And don’t forget about the resident smarty pants. That one person who waits in the wings with Captain Obvious statements like, “It’ll turn up in the last place you look.” (Rolls eyes.)
Anyway, we were teetering on the verge of woe-is-me last Friday when Colton lost his earbuds. It was bad enough that he’d lost them in the first place. Knowing he had less than 10 minutes to find them before heading off to school added insult to injury.
So we did what anyone would do in that situation. We constructed an elaborate battle plan and went to work in an orderly and systematic fashion.
Oh, who am I kidding? We attempted a desperate Hail-Mary that saw Colton rooting through pants and jacket pockets, me dumping out the entire contents in one of his backpacks, and both of us flinging around anything that wasn’t nailed down.
“When was the last time you had them?” I asked.
“Yesterday,” he answered in a panicked tone.
“Yes, I realize that. But when yesterday? After school? Before bed?”
“I don’t know.”
Although we made the best of our search time, we left for school without the earbuds, and as Colton got out of the car, his request left no question as to his state of mind.
“Do you mind to look in the couch cushions as soon as you get home?”
I answered in the affirmative, knowing exactly how he felt. I couldn’t say I blamed him — or that I was the least bit surprised to receive a text from him within 30 minutes.
“Did you find them yet?”
I had turned up an empty juice pouch, a few candy wrappers, and half a dog biscuit.
But I digress.
I decided to check his room — to go through his dirty clothes and do a quick once-over on his desk, bookcases and chest of drawers.
Honestly, I’d resigned myself to the very real possibility that he’d dropped them at school or on the bus, and they were gone forever.
I noticed, however, that his bed wasn’t made. Or maybe it had been made and he’d torn it apart again in his hasty search. For good measure, I decided to shake out the comforter. Just in case. Which is when the small white plastic case feel on my foot and an hour or so of panic was replaced with a heavy sigh of relief.
I took a photo of them and sent it off to Colton, knowing that seeing them would instantly restore his ability to focus on other (dare I say) more important things.
Needless to say, he was elated.
“Where did you find them?!?
“Believe it or not,” I told him, “They were in the last place I looked.” I told him.
Isn’t that always the way…