"Where is ..." fill in the blank is the one question that fills my days and some nights ... I get phone calls, emails, taps on the shoulder, tugs on my shirt ... you name it. Apparently, I know - and those who ask, assume that I will share that information, correctly even.
I know where things are in the refrigerator, cabinet, pantry, laundry, basement, garage, toy box, closet, car, email in-box, and apparently my husband's computer (which I have to argue ... no, I really don't ... he just has a really organized file system, so organized that sometimes he forgets where he puts stuff ... ).
Let's use this as a sample ... you can substitute Chinese Mustard for whatever else comes to mind.
"Where is the Chinese Mustard?"
"In the refrigerator"
"Right, but where in the refrigerator?"
[In my head, I scream ... where it's been since we got the refrigerator] - but in my big girl voice, I say, "On the shelf with the other condiments."
"I assumed that, but where, exactly?
Here's where it gets tricky ... being that I answer the "Where is" question on a routine basis - dozens of times daily - I can use sarcasm, which might temporarily amuse me, but will render a loving and kind man insane or I can simply tell him. What to do, what to do.
The seconds are agonizing, as his egg rolls are getting cold ... tick-tock, tick-tock ...
"Hmmmm, I think it's to the left of the dijon and to the right of the Heinz yellow."
"Nope, I still don't see it ..." - a hint of distress, a smidgen of frustration ...
"Ahhhh, you might have to MOVE the ketchup."
Barely audible exclamation of joy ... "Got it ... thanks."
Now, here's the kicker ...how is it that I have the missing item radar in the first place ... and why it is that I can correctly locate hundreds, nay, thousands of items for my own family, but when I am in the presence of my own mother ... I have a total lack of recall? It must be some kind of weird retroactive gene that maintains dominance unless in the presence of someone with more experience ... I don't know, but it's freaky.
Here's a last minute P.S. - Several months ago, a back door house key was misplaced. The last person to use it, my husband, asked "where is ...". I suggested that he check his pockets, since he routinely checks all doors, etc. His alleged search came up negative, but only moments ago, the missing key magically reappeared. I asked, "Where was it?" He answered, "Apparently, it was in the pocket of one of my pairs of pants."
Huh. Who knew?
5 comments:
It's almost exactly like this in our house, only with the cupboard where canned goods and such are stored. My wife can't find anything in there, but I can tell from exactly what jar of pasta sauce the package of tuna is behind from 3 rooms away.
Guess which one one of does the grocery shopping...
But that's ok because I can't balance a checkbook to save my life, yet my wife can do this blindfolded, so I suppose it all sorta evens out.
What's a refrigerator? ;-)
Great ‘take’ on this week’s prompt. I understand this kind of radar and have had it all of my life. The only time it failed me was when Molly was a puppy. She snagged my keys from where I left them and put them in her toy box. I spent HOURS looking for them and quickly taught her they were a ‘no no’ ;--)
Thanks for dropping by Small Reflections yesterday.
Hugs and blessings,
I am cursed as well with the 'knowing' gene. Except when I lose something, which is pretty rare.
Your post just made me check my pockets as I couldn't remember where I had put the outside freezer key. I have two freezers in my carport but I have to lock them to keep the bears from invading them. Luckily I had put the key back where it belongs.
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