As a woman, I hold many titles: wife, mother, homemaker, chauffer, unemployment statistic. But none of these holds as much prestige as my newest title--The Keeper of All Things.
I have awarded myself this very royal designation since I am apparently expected to know where all things are located in our household at all times.
Several times a day I am asked "Have you seen my (fill in the blank)?" or "Do you know where the (fill in your own lost item) is?" Even if I cannot claim ownership of most of these objects, I am supposed to have some sort of female radar that can automatically locate other people's misplaced things.
Yesterday the hubby calls from work and says that since I am not doing anything, I need to locate the missing power cord that connects to our digital camera.
First of all, "not doing anything" consisted of tending to a sick child home from school, taking my online computer class and completing an assignment, making spaghetti sauce from the overbundance of tomatoes in the vegetable garden and cleaning out a bedroom closet. But that is a topic for another blog.
I would not know what this cord looked like if it jumped out of a dark corner and bit me in the leg. So I asked for a description. I got "a cord with a little slot thingy at the end."
That helps tremendously.
I then asked where he last saw it so I could narrow down the search area. The last time Cliff remembers having it was during my sister's wedding. In June. In Pennsylvania.
Do I use my psychic powers or the time machine to locate this one?
I took the time to search the house and gather any unidentified cords. Some of these are probably from electronics that we got rid of 10 years ago. Unfortunately, none was the appropriate cord with the slot thingy at the end. He was a bit annoyed that I did not find it, but let's not mention the fact that he was the one that either lost it or did not properly put it away.
I suppose I brought this on myself because I have always been the one to pick things up and deposit them in their proper places. I have tried to teach my children to be responsible for their own things. Generally it has worked--they are very good at keeping track of their possessions. Shared items like scissors or tape, however, often need to be tracked down.
Unfortunately, the strategy of "everything in its place" is sometimes lost on my husband. I am probably the only person I know who has to check the garage for dirty clothes and dishes. I once found the cordless telephone in the refrigerator. He accidently walked out of the house with a television remote control. That was in 1991. We are still looking for it.
Rather than be annoyed, I am going to relish my new title and position. After all, it means my family considers me to organized and capable. I will continue to pursue the noble art of locating lost objects with grace and decorum.
I'm going to fashion myself a crown out of those orphaned power cords. And that lost remote can be my scepter. If I ever find it.