The Finding Game

I never knew I had such a talent for finding things until I got married and had children. I would like to say this is some sort of inherent talent genetically acquired from my great-grandmother on my mother’s side, but I know this is not true. I remember distinctly standing in front of the closet, cupboard, bookcase yelling to my mom, “Where is it?” She would walk over with an exasperated sigh, move a couple of things and hand me the very thing I was looking for. And I have heard the expression, “if it was a snake, it would have bit you” more times than I care to count.

So it is with slight amusement (and much frustration!) that I watch my daughter stand in the exact same place for ten minutes, staring at the same thing and say, “I can’t find it.” Heaven forbid that she should, I don’t know, move her eyes, or gasp! Actually move something. I just roll my eyes and tell her to look harder because I know this game. At least she has a valid excuse; she is just six years old and has plenty of time to hone her talent. My husband, on the other hand, is another story.

There is something rather pathetic about a 30 year old man resembling a six year old as he stares into a closet and says, “I can’t find it.” Let me say for the record that my husband is a wonderful person and smart, dependable and very capable. However, when asked during a pre-marriage inventory what he would like to never hear from me again his answer was, “Can you find…” The man has a phobia about looking for things, I swear. In his single days, when he couldn’t find something (after some really intense staring at the spot where he thought the particular item should be) he would go buy another one. I think this is why we now have 7 rakes which is funny because I’ve never seen him use one. Probably couldn’t find it.

Part of his problem is that he doesn’t look in the obvious places. If something doesn’t come across his path through the course of his day to day activities, he’s convinced it’s lost. He’ll say, “I’ve lost my favorite pajama pants.” I’ll open the bottom dresser drawer and there they are! Right on top. But it is the wrong dresser drawer so he would never think to look there even though he put them there in the first place. And that’s how I’ve become the Doctor of Detection, the Professional of Pinpointing, the Leader of Location, the, uh, well, finder of stuff.

It doesn’t matter if I didn’t use it last, that it’s not mine or that I’ve never even seen it, both my daughter and husband think that I will know where it is. It’s as if they think I have some sort of mental inventory of everything that has ever been or ever will be in this house and that this information is available for instant retrieval. I guess I could feel some sort of pride that my family thinks that I am so smart and talented but I know all they are really trying to do is get out of looking for stuff. I mean really, I have a mother. I know the drill!

In the meantime, while I help my daughter and husband to hone their “finding” skills, I’m taking the baby around the house and showing him where everything is. Maybe if I train him young enough, he can be the finder of stuff and I will be off the hook. At any rate, somebody has to be on my team!