Some of you may remember my pacifier losing and finding adventures. It appears, dear reader, that my waist pouch has been brain washed by Pebbles' pacifiers in a dastardly attempt to make my life an anxious ordeal. The pacifiers have been coaching the pouch in precisely where to hide so that I spend at least a week combing my home, asking at stores and churches, and trying to call my cell phone so we can find it. The last place I saw it was right where it belongs! Since that time we had completely rearranged that little area of the house.
Finally, yesterday I got caught up in all my laundry and found this devious little item at the bottom of a basket full of clean clothes. The cell phone was on "silent".
I had torn closets, rooms, cupboards apart looking for this thing and it has the almighty nerve to hide in a place where I would have found it if I had been a more efficient homemaker and done my homely duty. (I wonder why a plain person is called "homely"?) Funnily enough, this was the very same basket from which I had been pulling clean but as yet un-put-away clothes for a few days.
It's a conspiracy, I tell you.
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