Several nights ago I was on the couch in my pre-bedtime coma pretending to watch yet another Law & Order rerun.  My husband woke me up waving a metal screw in my face. “Do you know what this is? I got it out of the dishwasher.” His voice had  frantic sound — I snapped to and tried to focus.  Somewhere in my unconscious a clock started ticking.  I jumped up and followed him out of the room.  “It’s from the vegetable steamer” I shouted in triumph!  I heard an imaginary buzzer!  He stopped dead in his tracks, turned around and stared at me intensely.  I could tell he was impressed. (By the way — he is hard to impress.)

This got me thinking. Upon command I can usually find any supposed lost or misplaced item no matter how small. I didn’t always have this psychic ability. It was born out of desperation the fist time I had to find a pacifier in the dark while a baby screamed. From pacifiers and blankies we moved on to beloved toys, very small pieces of toys and other types of miniature minutia  “Where’s the hat from my G.I.Joe?” (left side of the couch under the cushion); “Where’s the button from my coat?” (under the dresser– your sister’s bedroom); “I can’t find the purple crayon!” (kitchen drawer– second one on the left).

As the kids got older the pressure mounted. “Where’s my homework, my cleats, my text book, my lunch, my keys, my jersey, the dress I wore last Christmas….?” The possibilities of lost items was endless– the stakes were high– we were usually trying to find said items while trying to make the bus, the train or the bell. It got so bad I felt like I was in a throw back episode of Beat the Clock.

Now that everyone is older, I’m not called upon as often to miraculously find misplaced items.  But when duty calls I guess I still have the touch– I can still hear the buzzer.