Yesterday was Superbowl Sunday, a day that pretty much passes unnoticed in my life. Other than the grocery aisles and checkouts were packed with more people than usual stocking up on quickly consumable carbohydrates and carbonated high fructose corn syrup laden beverages. If it were the Ravens playing, I'd be a little more interested, but then again just barely.
After I returned grocery shopping and unpacking, Steve got ready to go into work for a few hours. Thea and I had decided to assemble the easel/chalkboard that has been sitting in the foyer for more than a couple weeks. Micah was napping. Since Thea and I work well together we had more than 75% of the easel assembled by the time Steve woke Micah up and deposited him in his high chair (too many pieces still lying around, waiting to be screwed into the frame.)
Once our masterpiece was finished, I said that they could use the chalkboard side while I got dinner started. I am not dumb enough to leave a two year old and tempera paints under the supervision of a five year old. After drawing for a bit, they got bored and went into the costume box and got out the tiger masks. Micah whipped off his BAHAs' band and put it on the ottoman, I retrieved it long enough to turn the dials down to "0", but left it there and went back to chopping up the ingredients for chili.
Steve returned for dinner and to watch the game and asked where the BAHAs were. On the ottoman. No BAHAs.
So the dining room table was checked since Micah has removed his band and put it there next to the dehumidifier containers. No BAHAs.
Meanwhile Thea is going about her dinner, completely unaffected by all of this.
I am getting fairly wound up because a) the BAHAs, now that there are two are worth about $8K, b) it was a year ago, but Micah has flushed a non-flushable object down the powder room toilet, and c) the laundry closet door is open and the washer was open (to stop the cycle and allow the whites to soak a bit since someone in the house who is not me decided to change the dial on the machine from cold/cold to warm/warm after depositing his fairly new, very dark jeans in with the load thus rendering all the whites in the load a pathetic shade of grey and necessitating a second wash to attempt to get the whites back to something closer to their original color), Micah's bunny bear got washed this week, and he loves watching the first few rounds of the agitator suck the bear down in the water.
The saving grace is that, unlike most times, Micah has not really been in the kitchen or the laundry closet, both he and Thea have been playing around the easel or in the middle of the living room.
Everything is checked: toy box, diaper bags, backpacks, toy bins, under furniture, in the cushions , the recycling bins, the garbage can, upstairs, and on and on and on.
Thea is still unfazed. "But what about my dessert?" Yes, it's all about you. I am ready to dump her strawberries and whip cream over her head.
How am I going to explain this to the audiologist? It's like the damn thing was beamed out of the house and onto an alien spacecraft.
The Super Bowel is on, no one is really watching.
Finally, after almost two hours of searching, it's time to get the children ready for bed, off to sleep and the search resumes.
The upside is that Thea's craft box got cleaned up and organized, the toy bins got cleaned up, a few things were found along the way and put in their proper places, but still no BAHAs.
I started dusting just to give myself a few minutes to think. I did the end table and the bookcase under the stairs. No brilliant ideas.
I get a chair and check on top of the TV armoire, never mind that I put Thea on my shouldes to look and then made Steve get on a chair to look again. Then I pulled the games and puzzles off the shelf above the TV and all the puzzles, the Leapster, and other junk from around the TV and start dusting. Swiffer rocks it as far as collecting large quantities of dust. While I'm putting stuff back and reorganizing a little bit, Steve comes over and points at my feet, where the Leapster is. My glasses are off at the moment, so it just looks like a black backpack strap. With a mesh BAHA band and two BAHAs attached.
Exactly WHAT happened will probably remain a mystery. What I do know is that Thea's Backyardigans Leapster cartridge was on the computer table, and I asked her to put it away. And I found it again in another location and asked her to put it away. Then when I checked and zipped the Leapster backpack, the cartridges were there, but no Leapsters. (She claimed they were in Steve's car.) On one of the first searches of the TV armoire, I found one of the Leapsters behind the TV, and put it in the back, but if the BAHAs were dangling from the Velcro, I failed to notice because I didn't pull the backpack out, I just stuffed the Leapster in while it was still in the armoire. When I pulled it out to dust, I just pulled and dumped stuff on the floor without scrutinizing it, I was looking for a mesh band with two little rectangular black boxes on it, not all of the above attached to a small backpack's Velcro strap.
BAHAs missing: 6:30 pm, BAHAs found: 12:30 am. Years off my life: 3-6.
Then, once order is restored, I'm packing up various cables and wires for Thea's Fisher-Price camera to stuff the container back behind the TV where it has languished for a couple of years. There are a few other cables for the Leapster so I dropped them all into the F-P camera's container. And just after I do this an eerie, deep voice emerges from the container reciting the alphabet. I kid you not.
I pull out everything from the container and it's a keychain burp/joke thing-y that Steve got as a gag gift at Christmas. The button pushed was supposed to be the voice of someone burping the ABCs. So not funny, and how it got into the camera container I haven't a clue. I should've taken a hammer to it.
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