I’ve issued a Linen Alert. Please be on the lookout for a missing hand towel. It is orange with a flower motif and the words “spring has sprung." What? I like seasonally themed home décor, so sue me.
It was last seen hanging on towel bar in bathroom, current whereabouts unknown.
Okay, so this isn’t quite the same level of mystery, as say, who shot JR. but still I want to know where the hell the towel went. One day it was there, the next it was gone. Wait, this could be the next big animated blockbuster “Hand Towel’s Big Adventure” coming to a theatre near you.
In this case, there was no need for forensics; I just decided to round up the usual suspects. The children, profiling, maybe, but known offenders, well, yes.
I don’t know why I bothered. Of course, collectively they know nothing. Even under intense individual questioning they all denied knowledge of the towel’s location.
This is unusual; usually, during one on one questioning, the kid with an ax to grind-maybe because his sister crushed his Lego castle-will throw a sibling under the bus, but not this time.
The only time my children present a unified front is when something goes missing or gets broken. Try to get three kids to agree on where to eat lunch, nope it’s not going about to happen. Ask who broke the lamp and three kids insist that no one did it. The lamp simply fell off the table unprovoked.
Trying to bolster their claim of innocence the kids denied knowledge that the towel even existed, which is disturbing in itself but goes a long way to explaining why the dog is mysteriously wet sometimes. The kids are using her as a hand towel.
If the kids are too be believed-which they are not, ever- a burglar broke in, bypassed all our other stuff, even the non-crappy stuff with a small resale value and took the hand towel instead. Although, I am sure a chat group for hand towel fetishists exists somewhere on the internet.
If you’re a parent you understand, it is the principal of the thing. The towel is clearly missing. I didn’t do anything with it, but obviously, someone did. I just want it back, no questions asked.
I know it isn’t lost forever, one day it will magically reappear from the nether, or a kid’s backpack-which, is the same thing. Basically.
It isn’t just the towel. The girls are now old enough to have an interest in clothing and accessories. Too cheap, to buy their own, they “shop” in my room. This means the Republic of Teenage Girls now regularly annexes my shoes, belts, purses and jewelry.
Never my clothes though, apparently my taste in actual clothing is appalling.
Oh sure, they claim they will give it back, but they never do. I have resorted to sending in Ninjas to get my stuff back. No, not really, I just wait until they are in school then raid their room.
Just today, I found a pair of earrings I’ve searched high and low for in the bottom of a gym bag. When I mentioned how I thought they were gone forever, the sticky fingered kid shrugged as if everyone stores jewelry in the bottom of a smelly gym bag. I was silly for not looking there in the first place.
Keep in mind the children’s laissez faire attitude doesn’t extend to when their items go missing. If something of theirs goes missing then I must call out a full-scale search and rescue team immediately.
Jennifer Flaten lives where the local delicacy is fried cheese, Wisconsin. She writes about family life, its amusing or not so amusing moments. "At least it's not another article on global warming," she says. Jennifer bakes a mean banana bread and admits an unusual attraction to balloon animals and cup cakes. Busy preparing for the zombie apocalypse, she stills finds time to write "As I See It," her witty, too often true column. "My urge to write," says Jennifer, "is driven by my love of cupcakes, with sprinkles on top. Who wouldn't write for cupcakes, with sprinkles," she wonders.
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