Thursday, October 11, 2007

Black Hole

I now have concrete proof that black holes do exist. There is one in my house. In the past two weeks, it has swallowed: my son's music book; my husband's keys; no fewer than seven socks from different pairs; my son's glasses (same son); my son's Game Boy (different son); my son's math book (second son again), and now--here's the kicker--the row counter from--you guessed it--Icarus.

You know, the row counter that I need to tell me which row of the indecipherable lace pattern I'm currently knitting, so that I end up with pretty scallops instead of spaghetti? That row counter.

I would love to blame the minions of the house, because it goes without saying that they are careless and lose things. Also, since they are all males, they are afflicted with "man eyes," for which there is no known cure. But I--I am The Finder.

"Mom? Where's my math homework?"
"In the downstairs bathroom."

"Honey? Have you seen my cell phone?"
"Third shelf down in the garage."

"Mom? I can't find my jockstrap and cup!"
"Check my purse."

I am the mother of boys. Dignity, order, and reason have long since departed this house. But until now, I have always been able to locate missing toys, clothing, pets, electronic devices, and all the other various and sundry tangible objects that populate modern American life. Until now, I've been on one long run of success.

My run is over. I have spent more hours than I can count looking for things in the past two weeks. And I have found precisely nothing. Not one item in the above list has made its reappearance. I have searched the house, the garage, the storage room, and both cars. I have crawled under beds and into closets. I have rousted untold numbers of spiders from their hiding places. The music book, keys, socks, glasses, Game Boy, math book, and--most importantly--row counter remain in absentia. I'm throwing in the towel. I am no longer The Finder. I am retired.

Where's Mom?
Don't know. Haven't seen her.

Icarus Countdown: 5-7 rows to go (stinkin' missing row counter!); 16 days left.


Tammy said...

Oh no! I'm sure you've looked in between all the couch cushions and under the couch. Hmmm... the only advice I have left is really more suited for the male species. Did you pick things up and look under them?

Well when you find the black hole, I'm missing a few sets of car keys so if you could check for them too that would be great.

sheep#100 said...

Undoubtedly a cat would know where all of that stuff is. Askt he cat to check the AKCD for you. You may require 'nip to get the answer out of the cat, though.

a friend to knit with said...

LOVE this!
How do WE always know where everything is???
And those socks? I don't know what happens to them!

Sharon said...

Dang! that Icarus is cursed. I have a skein of yarn that bears a curse. I've started 2 projects with it and they were both frogged as hopeless disasters. I'm dusting off that book of spells and incantations as we speak.

psst...contest on my blog!

Anonymous said...

Oh my god, it is a black hole!!! I'd call in a priest or a voodoo dude. The row counter just completely sucks. It's funny how no one can find anything in the house except for me. Before we got married, my DH was not so afflicted. It seems to be a common syndrome.

Anonymous said...

The missing items, I know where they are. In the old couch. Likely the upholster's kids are playing with a gameboy.

Unknown said...

I might have a few of the socks, but no keys, glasses or music books. I checked. They'll turn-up right after you replace them. You'll find the glasses in Jacob's backpack, Ross's keys in his desk, and the music books at the teachers house. Your sanity will be much harder to locate.

sophanne said...

Welcome to NFT. So comletely Not Funny.

I would check the drawer where the corkscrew was from the wine the other night!

marit said...

Oh, no! Funny thing how we mothers are supposed to keep track of everything- it's the same wayhere.
You'd better sit down with Icarus and start counting:-( I'm sure in the end it will look faboulous!

Anonymous said...

Ooo - there's man eyes in this house too! I too am The Finder. And I too would like to retire.....

...Sarah said...

Around here it goes that I can find everyone else's things but my own.

I hope it does turn out–and that you haven't lost your touch.

Anonymous said...

Are you sure the Zinfandel had nothing to do with it? :-)

Olga said...

Where's Mom? Hiding in her purse with the jock strap! You kill me!

5elementknitr said...

My friend the knit guru would put each line (enlarged and really clear) of a lace-knit chart on a different 3X5 card (or larger, depending on the size of the chart). She'd # them and put a ring binder through the holes she'd punch in the corner. Then she'd flip for each row. If she had to stop along the way (you know to eat or sleep), she'd put a rubber band around the whole shebang. In this way, she could easily read her chart (one line at a time) and never lose her place!

She's freakin brilliant!

If it was a particularly large peace, she'd have the cards laminated.

Anonymous said...

I have a feeling one of my favorite hiking socks are in the same black hole as yours.

If you don't find the row-counter, perhaps you can count the middle knit stitch? I know, a pain, but I figured it's easier than losing your sanity completely!

- MJ

Anonymous said...

As another mother of boys and a Fellow Finder, I sympathize. When our finder mojo leaves, what is left?

Angelika said...

I just love the way you explain the whole hole situation. Aren't we all the finders? Especially with boys in the house? My stuff might not always be in the right spot, but I know which spot it is.

Haley said...

this post totally cracked me up. i love your sense of humor and your great take on life. hope your "finding" powers return shortly. at least you haven't lost your sense of humor!