A Full Time Job for the Middle Aged Mom

I spend more time looking for things these days, then I do enjoying them.
Like the novel I was reading by Stephen King.
It's over 600 pages of spooky suspense. At least, I assume the last 150 pages were full of spooky suspense. I may never know, unless I find the book. So I guess it's still suspenseful anyway.
Now the suspense is about, where did it go instead of what will happen.
The thing that really bites is, I know it's around here somewhere. I last read it on the beach. I know I didn't leave it there. I would have noticed a 600 page hardcover book lying on the sand when I carried my beach chair and bag up to the parking lot. I didn't rinse off (I didn't swim) nor did I stop anywhere.
The book is not in the car or my beach bag.
Where else could a 600 page, hardcover book disappear?
It's in good company though. I'm also missing a pair of prescription sunglasses, a spare set of keys to the car, and a remote control for the DVD player.
The second I take my mind off of something, it walks away.
I've taught my middle daughter to say things three times if she puts something in a place she doesn't normally put it. Follow this up by finding a minimum of two people to tell, "I put my hat on the seat of this chair, please tell me this later when I can't find it."
Truth is, it's just easier to put things where they belong.
Besides, my family's growing weary of the mental clutter my additional reminders require of them.
"Mom, don't tell me where you put things," they whine, "when I remember where your things are I lose three things of my own."
We're just a bunch of cluttered cerebrums bumping into each other, and knocking out valuable information.
I think we only have so much room in our tiny little brains. It's like my closet. In order to put in something new, something else has to leave. So the names of the people I met the night before at a dinner with my husband who asked to be sent a link to my blog, poof! Disappears. Yet, I can still remember all the words to a Betty Crocker Icing jingle from a television commercial that aired when I was ten.
Seems we don't forget everything. Wouldn't it be great if we could chose what we hold onto?
I really liked those prescription sunglasses. I wish I could forget I lost them.
Did I mention they were the replacement pair for three others just like them? I have Lens Crafters on speed dial. They keep an extra pair of my frames in the lead salespersons desk waiting for me. I'm sure I make her the lead salesperson.
Come to think of it, I did forget, for a little while anyway, about my favorite pair of sandals that have been missing for the past week. So that's good . . . until I remembered again.
Bummer.
Imagine what I could accomplish in the course of a day if I didn't spend so much time looking for things I lost. I'd certainly be better read if I finished books instead of losing them.
My husband says it's my little way of helping the economy, and keeping us out of a tax bracket we'd find uncomfortable anyway.
I'm sure he said some means things too, but I can't remember them.
So I say it keeps us married, too.
I guess there are positive benefits to everything, you just have a look a little deeper for that silver lining sometimes than others. I'm good at looking.
It's just becoming a full time job.