Honey, Where Did You Put My Sledgehammer?

The conversation started innocently enough. The four of us women were discussing something about husbands, and got sidetracked as to  how they can't seem to find anything or keep up with anything.

You know the drill. "Honey where did you put my sledgehammer? I'm sure I left it right here. What did you do with it?"

Now, this puts the wife in a dilemma. First off, we never touched the stupid sledgehammer, we didn't put it anywhere. But because we have eyes that are connected to our brains, we know where it is,we can see it directly in our husband's path.

Right where he left it, of course.

Even when you tell them that's where they left it, they are always suspicious that because you knew where it was, you moved it!

Of course, if you simply say, "I haven't moved your sledgehammer," and leave it at that, someone (him) will trip over it, and there's an irritating trip the the ER.

We had friends who had a two year old little boy. One Saturday morning, the husband dropped by the office where we were getting some last minute stuff ready for a trip. After chatting for a few, I asked about his wife. "Oh,' he said happily, "She's in the front yard reading." I asked how Jason (their child) was letting her do that, as two year olds don't let you read much. He spazzed out, his lanky arms and legs literally going in four different directions, his eyes popping out of his head, just like a Saturday  morning cartoon. "Oh no! I forgot! I left him at the hardware store!" And he ran out, leaving Husband and Myself stunned. (The kid was okay, one of the ladies sat him in the floor with pots and pans and a wooden spoon, figuring somebody would remember him eventually. I guess she was married.)

My own husband forgot our child more than once. But it was forgetting to pick her up from somewhere, not leaving her behind. Being a female child, she knew better than to let him out of her sight if they were alone in public.

And of course, there is the losing stuff syndrome.

My husband routinely loses his keys, wallet, phone, camera, watch, wedding ring (hmmmm), and glasses - all twenty-five pair of them.

If I made a list of all the things he's lost, say, in the last three months - well, I just can't.

I'm writing a blog, not a novel.

I honestly can't say I never lose something. There are times (like this morning) when I misplace something for a few minutes. This  morning I was getting ready to go to a doctor's appointment and my shoes disappeared. I remembered going into the closet and getting them, but they weren't on the dresser, floor or bed.

First thing, I asked Husband if he'd taken my shoes somewhere, because when something of mine disappears, 95% of the time, he's the one who has absconded with it.

But this time he said no, so I retraced my steps and remembered I'd put my dirty socks in the basket, on top of the dryer. Sure enough, there were my shoes.

If  Husband had lost his shoes, we would have to go buy a new pair.

Once, he lost the entire ring of keys: office, home, car, safe deposit box, etc. and his dog tags, which were attached to the ring.

He found them the next year. Apparently he'd dug a hole to plant a rosebush. Rosebush died, he dug it up, and voila'! Keys!

It's a mystery, most things he loses, though. I mean, our house just ain't that big. Where the heck is all that stuff? Is there a black hole just to the left of our bedroom?

I wish I knew.