Where oh where have my things gone?

My stuff is no longer just mine. You name it and my kids have “borrowed” it from me. Sometimes I am aware of these transactions, sometimes I am completely left in the dark.

My sons used to raid my sock drawer. I eventually ran out of socks since they were just as adept at losing my socks as they were their own and had to put some thought as to how to keep the little foot hosiery thiefs at bay. I decided on buying myself all girly-girl type of socks, complete with lots of pink and hearts or flowers. Shortly thereafter I found my 8-year-old wearing one boys ankle sock on his left foot and a pink one of mine on his right.

This is a widespread problem that affects more than my sock drawer. They love my socks, shoes (yes, shoes!), pens, brush, toothbrush and all manner of things they should have been keeping track of for themselves. It wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t lose my item as well. And of course, it would be a whole lot nicer if they would ask first. Since none of the above applies, it drives me completely nuts. I end up overreacting over the simplest of matters. One of them will “borrow” my scissors and then I’ll see that same child in the backyard five minutes later. All of a sudden I have a vision of my scissors growing rusty, hiding in the lawn for some unsuspecting soul (me) to find in the most unpleasant way. Prompted by my horrorific imagination I scream, “Did you put my scissors back?” I am single-handedly pissed purple.

Who knew I would one day care so vehementally about office supply products? But when you can’t find what you need in the last place you put it you either start to believe you are going crazy or a child has taken and lost it.

The scissors may have made it back to the desk drawer but I have lost countless rolls of tape, staples, erasers, and markers. I guess I do have a right to be so overprotective. My local office supply store is beginning to recognize me and remember my name.

It may seem extreme but I am one lost pair of socks or stapler away from buying a huge safe and placing all of my items in there. But as luck would have it, I’m no good at remembering number combinations. And my children are uncannily stealthy about getting past locks of any sort. Shoot, some of them got past the birth control barrier to be conceived.


  1. My son steals my socks. How do I know? His huge size 12 foot stretches them so that I can no longer wear them. And if he isn't taking them, his girlfriend manages to "borrow" them.

    I've learned the value of folding the socks and not leaving them till all the loads are done.

    good post :)

  2. Oh dear. Perhaps if you charged them for every item of yours they stole. But my guess is, any money they earn comes from you, right?

    Nothing is sacred once your name changes to MOM.

    Cute post!

  3. I used to sleep in my husband's t-shirts until he finally one day asked me not to, "Honey, our 'chests' aren't the same and you're stretching mine out in the wrong places..."

  4. Lucky you Stacey! I am, uh, in no danger of stretching out my husband's t-shirts.

    Thanks for the comments Jeanette and Kim.

  5. Stacey, that is the same thing Mr. Vagabond tells me! Not sure why, though -- I fit into the 'not so blessed' category.

    Around here, everyone uses everyone else's everything (well, not *everything*). It's all kind of community property in the end. Even socks! Right now, I am wearing a T-shirt that belongs to my younger son, but he did abandon it when he went to college. Mr. Vagabond complains that I am always losing his tools, but I tell him, "It's not lost. Look--it's right there in the yard!" :-)


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