Dada to the Rescue
I woke up this morning determined to find my missing silverware. If you need a reminder, the boys lost most of our forks and spoons yesterday. In a rare moment of my parental negligence, I let the boys play in the silverware drawer while I tended to other things. When I walked into the kitchen to shoo them away, most of our forks and spoons were missing with no trace. I tried to find them yesterday with no luck.
While the kids ate breakfast, restrained in their high chair and locked far away from our remaining silverware, I went to work. Mommy suggested that the kids had hidden the utensils under the couch. I checked under there first, and found many toys, long forgotten food, and a disturbing amount of pet hair, but no utensils. I had my doubts that the boys could so efficiently tuck a couple dozen forks and spoons under a piece of furniture anyway.
Next I checked the stairway. I know the boys like throwing things down the stairs for some reason. I think they enjoy watching the physics involved in slowly pushing an object over the baby gate until the end dangling over the stairs reaches critical mass and tilts away from them, beginning its bouncing trek down the stairs. That, and they might enjoy watching me fetch things after they throw them beyond their reach. Whatever the reason, I didn’t hold out much hope that they’d be on the steps because we traverse the steps several times a day. If forks were resting prong side up on the stairs, my bare feet would’ve found them before morning. I checked anyway thinking maybe their arms are just incredibly accurate at throwing things into that box that we never seem to find the time to move off the landing. No luck there, either.
Next I went back to the kitchen and checked every drawer and cabinet, even the locked ones. Even though I could’ve sworn that I checked them yesterday, I suspected the utensils were still near the scene of the crime.
After opening every cabinet and checking around every, useless, long-forgotten kitchen gadget stored therein, I found our utensils. I should’ve known exactly where they when I couldn’t find them. They were strewn in the cabinet that’s missing the drawer above it. Soon after we moved into our home, the boys discovered they could easily pull the cabinet out and hang from it. Soon after that discovery, the drawer fell apart, leaving a hole in the front of the cabinet that leads directly into the storage area beneath it. The boys must’ve grabbed the utensils out of the silverware drawer, and deposited them in that hole in the cabinet. They may have enjoyed watching the physics involved in tilting an object over an edge and falling into an abyss. They may have also enjoyed watching me panic because I couldn’t find a spoon for supper last night.
Mommy said I should be happy that the boys are learning to put things away; they had chosen that cabinet as the perfect place to store our utensils. I decided I’d be happier if they’d learn to leave things alone when they’re already put away.
While the kids ate breakfast, restrained in their high chair and locked far away from our remaining silverware, I went to work. Mommy suggested that the kids had hidden the utensils under the couch. I checked under there first, and found many toys, long forgotten food, and a disturbing amount of pet hair, but no utensils. I had my doubts that the boys could so efficiently tuck a couple dozen forks and spoons under a piece of furniture anyway.
Next I checked the stairway. I know the boys like throwing things down the stairs for some reason. I think they enjoy watching the physics involved in slowly pushing an object over the baby gate until the end dangling over the stairs reaches critical mass and tilts away from them, beginning its bouncing trek down the stairs. That, and they might enjoy watching me fetch things after they throw them beyond their reach. Whatever the reason, I didn’t hold out much hope that they’d be on the steps because we traverse the steps several times a day. If forks were resting prong side up on the stairs, my bare feet would’ve found them before morning. I checked anyway thinking maybe their arms are just incredibly accurate at throwing things into that box that we never seem to find the time to move off the landing. No luck there, either.
Next I went back to the kitchen and checked every drawer and cabinet, even the locked ones. Even though I could’ve sworn that I checked them yesterday, I suspected the utensils were still near the scene of the crime.
After opening every cabinet and checking around every, useless, long-forgotten kitchen gadget stored therein, I found our utensils. I should’ve known exactly where they when I couldn’t find them. They were strewn in the cabinet that’s missing the drawer above it. Soon after we moved into our home, the boys discovered they could easily pull the cabinet out and hang from it. Soon after that discovery, the drawer fell apart, leaving a hole in the front of the cabinet that leads directly into the storage area beneath it. The boys must’ve grabbed the utensils out of the silverware drawer, and deposited them in that hole in the cabinet. They may have enjoyed watching the physics involved in tilting an object over an edge and falling into an abyss. They may have also enjoyed watching me panic because I couldn’t find a spoon for supper last night.
Mommy said I should be happy that the boys are learning to put things away; they had chosen that cabinet as the perfect place to store our utensils. I decided I’d be happier if they’d learn to leave things alone when they’re already put away.
posted by Matt at
11:41 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home