I am a middle age mom and I have a confession to make: I’ve begun to misplace things, important things. Yesterday, for example, I couldn’t find the high school volleyball team’s checkbook, the one with two checks and $150 tucked inside, ready to be deposited in the bank.
It took me 2 ½ hours of searching, of carefully moving and examining pile after pile of papers that surround my desk in a vain attempt to find the checkbook. I looked in each pile twice, then I crawled under my desk and pulled out the team’s “office in a box” and painstakingly took every hanging folder out and flipped each piece of paper over and over in my attempt to find the missing checkbook.
Desperate, I even called my husband Mike (aka “Mr. No,” as in almost anything I ask him his response is, “No.” And yesterday his response was textbook when I asked him if he’d seen the checkbook.). I kept searching though. And finally, finally it slid innocently into my hand. . .misplaced in one of the hanging folders in the “office in a box” that I must have neglected to check my first time through the box!
Relieved, I clutched the checkbook in my hot, sweaty hand and headed for the front door and the bank. I was afraid I’d put it down somewhere and misplace it forever!