Whenever something of my husband's can't be found, he says hobos took it. Let's ignore the fact that after I start looking, said hobo stolen item is found within our dwelling, but I'm kind of a whiz at finding lost things. I'll start off with the cursory look around at surfaces, the table, the counter, the floor. Then I'll move onto the looking under things and in things and if that all fails, it's down to the complete floor to ceiling cleaning.
I figure, if I'm moving furniture to see what's behind it besides dust bunnies, I might as well sweep and mop as I go.
On Saturday, I was surprisingly on time and ready to go with my husband to run errands. I just needed to grab my sweatshirt. My sweatshirt, mind you, that I either hang up on the coat rack or hang over my desk chair. It is rarely at the table mingling with the other coats and jackets and only once was found wedged in the couch. I did a quick check on my hook and my desk. Nothing.
I moved coats and jackets and scarfs and bags and walked away from the coat rack thinking the kids own too many coats, but my sweatshirt wasn't there. I went into my room and sorted through everything, including asking my husband to dig through his carpet of clothes. Not there.
My husband said it must be those darn hobos. Or maybe our daughter took it. I was more inclined to believe his hobo fairy tale than the idea that my daughter, who owns 3 sweatshirts, 3 fleece jackets, and 4 coats, would have taken it. But the fact remained that it wasn't anywhere I would have put it.
Later I cleaned the downstairs looking for it. I even checked the car, in case I forgot it there.
The idea of hobos was starting to sound more and more plausible.
Fast forward to the end of the day, and the house was cleaner, but the sweatshirt was still missing. I was starting to get a little frustrated. It was no where I'd have put it. I guess I'd go with my husband's other theory and ask our daughter.
Oh, yes, she knows where it is. See, the thing is, her friend was running late to piano practice and needed a jacket so they just grabbed the first one, which was mine, and then after practice, her friend took it off upstairs, so yes, it's in her room.
This is where I take a couple deep, calming breaths and count to 10 or 50, and think of positive things, and maybe go eat a few chocolates from my hidden candy stash! And remind her every day since, several times a day, that I would like her to bring my sweatshirt back to me.
The case is solved, but I'm still waiting for my sweatshirt to be recovered....