Anyone lost a shoe?

Anyone lost a shoe?
 

You know that thing when you’re walking along a road and you see a random jumper hanging off a wall? Or perhaps a shoe, or occasionally a pair of pants…and you think, HOW is it possible to lose those items?

I mean seriously, how do you go off home without your pants? Like;

‘la la la, hmmmm somethings missing? It feels breezy or something. Oh, but of course, I have forgotten my PANTS. I must of left them on the wall outside sainsburys. Silly me’.

Well, now I am one of them.

To clarify, I haven’t left my pants outside Sainsburys. If I had, I would keep that to myself, rather than telling everyone.

What I mean, is that I suddenly appear to have lost a lot of things, and it’s getting worse.

Do we have a poltergeist in the house?

Am I in the early stages of memory loss?

Or perhaps more likely, is it actually my child (the THIEF).

It may be partially my fault, as I now spend my days saying ‘No’, ‘don’t’, and you ‘can’t.

‘Don’t play with the wires / cooker / washing machine / Mummys earrings / Laptop / telephone / tampons / coat hangers . . the list is endless.

Which may well be part of the problem. …

I say ‘NO’ so often that he now ignores me all together. Not only that, but my parenting mistakes are so bad he now tells random strangers about it.

For example, when we were in a shop the other day, a nice lady smiled at him and said hello.

‘Hello. I just can’t do these things anymore’ he responded.

The lady looked utterly bewildered and wondered off.

Now if he wants to play with something he’s not supposed to, he has made the smart, but rather inconvenient choice of hiding said item.

'You've lost what Mum??...No haven't seen it.'

I don’t mean that he has put the fridge in his room or anything….although I wouldn’t put it past him. Just that he seems to take everything else. If I lay out my clothes for work the night before, by the time I go to put them on, they are gone. I find myself stumbling around in my sleepy 6am state, attempting to put on a pair of socks as a bra.

Keys is another one – EVERY time I go to leave the house it takes me 10 minutes of searching, tantrums (me) and bribery to get him to help me locate them.

I have lost pens, my diary, a pair of fleecy pyjamas he took a shine to, a pack of hairbands, 1 pink welly, and a box of donuts (I may have had a midnight feast and be blaming this one on him unfairly). The list goes on…

Some of the items I manage to locate – the top ‘hiding place’ is the bath, with the kitchen bin coming in a close second. However, most have long since disappeared.

I cannot understand this because I do clean my house. I’m the only person who lives her than actually knows where everything is. Other household members seem unable to locate anything whatsoever, without my assistance.

So WHERE could he possibly have hidden them?

Which is why I have now taken to looking at the abandoned items in the street differently.

Perhaps they are have actually been left there by a group of toddlers, whom gather on the streets in the early hours.

They hang out in their Onesies (hoods up), swigging their milk and laughing at their parents ridiculous attempts at controlling them, whilst throwing any random items they’ve gathered in the street?

‘What you got then Freddie?’ asks Noah.

‘Mums pants, a glove and a sock’. Says baby Freddie.

‘Good work. Lets put the pants on the wall….the glove on a railing, and the sock in a puddle. Ha!’

‘Mugs’ says Freddie, taking a glug from his Tommy tippee. ‘My Mum will be so annoyed when she can’t find her other glove. She’ll have to drive to work sitting on her hand again…ha!’

The alternative is that I will one day find said items. Probably as I’m packing him off to university or something…

Until then, I am going to invest in some CCTV and a padlock.