I have misplaced my hot water bottle. Or I should say my house has eaten my hot water bottle. And my white oxford blouse. And my cream coloured fleece sweatshirt. I have come to the conclusion that houses gets hungry from time to time and the beasts need to be fed. Rather than politely asking for snacks of extra home heating fuel on chilly November mornings or demanding the odd wood burning fire, houses instead gorge themselves on random possessions left carelessly about. A single sock from the dryer. A grocery list meticulously created and left on the kitchen counter. A hot water bottle, a white oxford blouse, and a cream coloured fleece sweatshirt. A sort of catnip for the domicile. Most of the time the house has completely digested the articles before we even realize that they have gone missing. But every so often we might be able to save the odd one with a bit of cleaning and some careful organization. It was this desire to rescue my personal possessions that drove The Husband and me to clean out our closet this morning.
I should say that the two of us have managed to share a comfortably large walk-in closet (of course it is never large enough!) in our bedroom for much of the last sixteen years, mostly because my overflow clothing has found homes in the spare bedroom closet and what was once the Oldest Son's bedroom built-ins. I am fairly meticulous about weeding through the chaff of old clothes and I like to keep my clothing neat and organized. The Husband prefers to wear what is on the top of the nearest pile, has stuff he never knew existed, and hasn't done a thorough sorting in almost five years. In a desperate attempt to update his wardrobe, clean out the crap, and hopefully find the undigested items listed above, the two of us went to work on the old clothes. Two hours (he says two weeks and is still whining that I ruined his Sunday) and seven large overstuffed garbage bags later, we are ready for trips to Goodwill to dump the old and ill-fitting, and to the mall to procure a few new items. Our closet has never looked better. Hopefully we can maintain the order and organization for more than a week. The hot water bottle? Nary a sign. The white oxford blouse? Gone with the wind. The cream coloured fleece sweatshirt? A homemade snack for an obviously ravenous and underfed domicile.
I have a suggestion for all of the techies out there searching for the next million dollar idea. Microscopic GPS homing devices that we can attach to all of our personal items so that they can be easily retrieved. My iPhone has one now, why not my cream coloured fleece sweatshirt? Imagine the possibilities. Never again will we have to play fry cook to an overindulged and overly sated abode. Just push a button and a signal will tell you where every article is located. Find that sucker before the house's digestive juices permanently destroy it.
Ok. I know I sound wacky, but I want my stuff back and I am tired of playing the part of daft imbecile moronically searching in vain. Homeowners of the world unite. Renew the commitment to keep our stuff out of the guts of gluttonous dwellings. Either that or help me out with my obviously f@#*ed up memory!