Part of Ezra's shin guard, found most recently in the bathtub.
Here is how my children look for something they've lost:
"MOM! Where's my (shin guards, X Men comic, Messi jersey, homework folder, library book, drumsticks, etc.)"
Here is how I respond:
"I don't know. Have you looked?"
"I looked everywhere!"
Allow me to translate. "Looking everywhere" in boyspeak means standing in their rooms with their eyes open, followed by basketball dribbling. No "looking" actually occurs.
Any memory prompting, such as "where did you see it last?" is as useful as teaching cats to breakdance, so I end up performing a hostile search and rescue for the lost item.
I mutter, I stomp, I open closet doors and dresser drawers using much more force than required, and I empty the hamper because usually those shin guards are inside a pair of soccer socks my youngest son, Ezra, took off last week. I have accidentally washed those shin guards more times than I care to admit.
Other things I have found in Ezra's hamper:
- A football
- A winter hat
- A baseball trophy
- Unworn clothes with the tags still on
- UNO cards
- Beyblades
I'd like to think that while my sons watch me search for whatever they have lost, I am modeling the proper way to "look" and that they will absorb these skills.
But let's not kid ourselves.
Maybe boy brains are not wired to find lost items. My husband has replaced six pairs of sunglasses in the last three years. I am still mourning the loss of Maxon's brand new jacket, which never came home from the 5th grade camping trip. If you need me between 5 p.m. and 5:15 p.m. on a Monday or Wednesday, I am looking for Ezra's shin guards.
So when Maxon and Ezra shout out my name and call for a search party, I will continue to say, "This is how you look for something" every time I "help" them look. Maybe they will catch on. But wherever they go in life after they leave our house, I just hope they are successful enough to be able to pay for replacement sunglasses.