lost

This morning I found myself in one of those situations, where you begin questioning your own sanity.

It was a relatively calm morning. Kaspar was once again playing garbage man and unloading ALL of his toys onto his bed (the garbage truck). Stella was happily playing with the zipper of my purse. All doors and safety latches were done up and closed. So, I decided that it was safe for me to lock myself in the bathroom for about three minutes to do the things that people do in bathrooms on their own. Sometimes I don't have the luxury of privacy in my bathroom... but this morning I thought I'd take the chance while everyone was calm and happy.

Upon reentering the bedroom I realized that Stella had managed to get into my zipped up purse and pull out everything onto the floor. So what! A few ripped bills? A destroyed lipstick. Nothing worth worrying about. The day goes on.... until.... I pack the kids up and get ready to go to the store. And I cannot find my wallet.

I search. I tear the house apart. I get the kids dressed and undresses several times. I go back and forth between the house and the garage several times. In the end I tell myself that I'm 99.99% sure that it was in my purse. Back to the indoors. I rearrange the entire bedroom. Go through clean and dirty laundry. Go through everything that Stella might have gotten into. I start to feel like I'm going crazy. Nothing. Two hours pass. Nothing. Three hours. I'm still searching. In the middle of it all, the phone rings. A very apologetic voice on the other end asks for me. It's or RESP fund manager calling and being very sorry about disturbing me on a Sunday. I'm so frustrated I want to yell at her. I take a deep breath, take a break from searching and try to deal with whatever is about to come my way. I'm already expecting some tragedy, but She's only asking me to check my son's birth certificate, because of some mistake SHE has made on the application. Thank goodness that's all! So, I'm opening the "filing cabinet" which is really just a cardboard filing box under the desk in the bedroom... and yes... my wallet is right there! Sitting amongst the first few files. Nice and neat.

I yelled so loud that she must have thought I was nuts. I felt so happy about her calling that I almost invited her for dinner and called her an angel. She definitely thought I was nuts! I even made her listen to my entire sob story about my wallet and shed a few tears of joy while telling it. Madness!

Stella must have managed to pull out my wallet, go through everything else in the purse as well as stuff the wallet through the banker's box handle hole into the box, all within minutes of leaving her alone in the room. How is that possible? And the hole is only an inch bigger then the wallet.

I don't get it!