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An All-Too Common Family Scene

“Where are my sunglasses? I can’t find my sunglasses!” B exclaims with his usual dramatic flare.

It’s like the thousandth time J and I have heard that exclamation since we bought the sunglasses for him several weeks ago. They’re great sunglasses – polarized lenses, his favorite color (red), and a perfect fit.

They were also close to $20. So I ain’t down with the constant misplacing of them. But why does he need them now, when the sun hasn’t shone for about two hours?

I remind him that he often leaves them in his room, and so there he tromps to take a look.

When he comes out empty-handed, I ask, “Did you leave them outside?” He has left them outside before, because of course that’s the ideal place to leave a pair of sunglasses.

B leaves to take a cursory look outside. I am making our afternoon smoothies and am not about to interrupt my work to help. J – well, he just doesn’t let B’s urgencies get to him. Usually.

Okay, sometimes.

But I do glance around the house at the usual places they are found: the kitchen table, the short bookcases, the shelf where they are actually supposed to be kept when not being worn (and how often do you think they show up there?). But I don’t see them.

B comes back in, his search having proved futile.

“Could you have left them in the car?” I suggest. He and J have recently returned from a jaunt – likely the last one of the year – to the lake since it was unseasonably warm and humid on this day.

“Daddy, you have to go look!” B insists.

“I’ll go look after I finish my tea,” J says with a sigh. The cars stay locked, not because of local thieves, but because of a Very Local Mischief Maker. As in, he lives with us.

As in, the kid who can’t keep track of his sunglasses to save his life.

I have a better idea. “Why don’t you go look in the car windows,” I tell B, “then come back and give us a report of what you found?”

B thinks that’s a good idea, too, and off he goes. Not two minutes later he is back, shaking his head and telling J that he has to hurry up before a coyote finds the sunglasses and decides he would look really cool if he put them on.

(Okay, so B doesn’t say anything of the sort. I’m just trying to be funny.)

J gulps down the rest of his tea, then takes the turn to bring his mug into the kitchen. This turn brings his line of sight right into B’s room. J steps into the room.

“Your sunglasses are lying right in the middle of the floor of your room!” J exclaims in turn.

(By the way, I never heard J exclaim once, no, not once, before B turned two. Just thought you might like to know.)

I laugh and shake my head. B laughs, too, then goes into his room, retrieves the glasses, and returns to the kitchen, giggling sheepishly.

“Every time he can’t find something that is in plain sight,” I tell J, “and we find it for him, he ought to pay us a quarter.”

I turn to B. “That might make people look a little harder for things.”

Not a bad idea, I think?

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