We spent two hours looking for my keys yesterday. We pretty much turned it upside down, looking.
The problem is, after exhausting all places that I would have put them, I have to put myself in the place of a one year old. And a three year old. And a four year old. And then we about have all the options covered.
This is why I moved the stove. Found a Melissa and Doug piece that had been missing and bugging me for months. Found a headband in Blaine’s lunch box. You know, in case Daddy needs to pull his hair back at work. Found a weather chart that one dear child failed to tell me was missing for her math. Found my missing chapstick.
All I knew about my keys was that I’d given them to Ruby and told her to put them in my purse. Big mistake.
After two hours, having searched the house, the garage, the basement, the shop, and the van multiple times, I found them. Ruby had climbed onto the step stool and put them into my old purse. The one I don’t use when I have babies in diapers because it’s too small to be helpful. (That’s been a year and a half now. So why is that purse even still on the coatrack???) Then, for added safety, someone hung a coat over said purse.
When I found them, she started giggling and remembered what she had done. Now if only she could remember without the visual reminder when I’m pulling them out of their hiding place.