I try very hard not to "rat out" TheDad here on the blog. I don't think our world needs any more husband-bashing or dad-bashing. We get enough of that on TV and in the movies. It's why I had to stop watching "Everybody Loves Raymond" even though TheDad enjoyed watching it with me--but I found that the more I watched, the more I became like "Debra" with never a good word to say about my husband, but way too many sarcastic ones.
However, I found this funny and I know he won't mind if I say it. You need to know that he is not good about remembering where he puts things, or remembering to bring things when he goes somewhere. This morning as he prepared to take Big Brother to the Homecoming 5K race, I asked Big Brother if he had his registration form. "Wait a minute, I think I put it down...somewhere..."
TheDad laughed. "He's got my genes! They all do! Barb, you're going to have to die last out of all of us, or none of us will know where to find anything."
That's a lot of pressure to put on a person, by the way.
This afternoon TheDad took Middle Sister and Little Brother up north to go to a movie with his brother and the 3 Girl Cousins. This gets him big-time brownie points with the kids and with me, as I've got some peace and quiet except when I'm chauffeuring Big Brother to miscellaneous Homecoming Events this afternoon and evening. I used some of the time to start rummaging in the basement and moving things around in preparation for next weekend's annual "Find the Advent Wreath at the Bottom of the Christmas Closet" ritual. First you have to move all the stuff that's in front of the Christmas Closet; you know the drill.
In the course of my rummaging and moving I found a nice bag that TheDad got at a computer event in 2002 (the bag is dated with the event logo and year). He always gives me first shot at these bags, and I was recently looking for a new one as the one I'd used for my choir music had gotten some holes in it. So TheDad gave me the bag from this year's workshop, but it wasn't quite The Right Bag. I lived with it, but it just wasn't quite right. And then I found this nice bag.
So I went to empty out the little bit of stuff I found inside. Receipts, workshop notes, a name tag, a 3-1/2" diskette, a CD, a highlighter, a Boy Scout item--nothing out of the ordinary there. Judging from the dates on the papers I found, this bag has not been used in about 4 years.
I also found a fork. Not a plastic fork, but a real fork from our kitchen silverware. Into the dishwasher! And there was a tie that has been missing for--oh, about 4 years now.
And the bag was still a little heavier than it should have been. I opened a pocket flap and found--a 3-1/2" disk drive! (He and his dad often swap discarded computer parts so they can rebuild PCs.)
How do you forget that you have one of those in your bag?
It sure beats some of the weird stuff I've found in my purse!