I had the rather unique experience last night of scouring my house (and yard and car) for a gym shoe that I KNEW made the trip home from the gym with me. My desperate cry of "Have you seen my shoe?" was met with a muffled "Yeah, Anna had it in the living room" from the hubby upstairs. Great. Anna had it. The culprit can't even tell me where she's hidden it.
Let me take a quick second to explain something crucial here. I am NOT a morning person. If I don't have all my stuff lined up the night before, I forget things. For example, if my gym bag isn't packed and waiting for me by the back door in the morning, then I don't go to the gym that day. Counter-productive to my weight-loss goal. So I pack my gym bag every evening and put it by the back door.
I'm not even sure where to start searching, as my first scan of the living room yielded nothing. She has developed a weird fascination with the laundry chute lately, but I don't think she could have fit the shoe down there. Even so, down to the basement to check. Sippy cup cover, old newspaper, and duplo block, but no gym shoe. OK...maybe Anna didn't take it and it fell out in my car. Outside to comb the floor of my backseat. Cheerio, baby doll, another cheerio...man, I should vacuum in here. No gym shoe. Back to the living room - under the coffee table, behind all the curtains, in the coat closet (THERE'S where that puzzle piece went!). No gym shoe. "Anna! Where did you put my shoe?!?!" "Ayahyahyah!!" (which I take to mean "Suck it, mom, I'll never talk!").
I search high and low, mostly low, in her bedroom and ours, the bathroom (the tub is another favorite hiding spot and frequent residence for her pajamas, baby doll and sippy cup) but all to no avail. I enlist hubby's help. At this point, a good 15 minutes has gone by and I'm starting to laugh maniacally at the idea that a toddler could take something as large as a sneaker and find such a good hiding space for it. Anna follows us from room to room, playing a bizarre little baby game of "warmer/colder" without actually offering any real hints as to where she's stored her loot.
On a whim, I open my closet door. Usually I hear her when she digs in here because she's not terribly subtle when she's up to no good. But, what do we have here? Gym shoe! Anna looks at us with a bored look and offers one more "Bah!" as if to say "I can't believe it took you monkeys so long to find a lousy shoe!" Neither can I, kid. I'm going to have to lock my stuff up from here on out or I'm doomed to walk the halls searching, in vain, for gym shoes from now until eternity...or at least until she leaves for college.