Today was a kickin’ summer day – the kind that makes me feel like I am killing it at the mom-game. We started with watching “Pan” at the Rave. It’s $1 per person and the kids love it.
With a family our size, going to the movies is normally a special occasion. For example, we all just saw “Finding Dory” for Jason’s 6th birthday. But I digress.
After the movies we headed straight over to Six Flags. Woohoo! By the time we got there, it was time for lunch. We literally went to three different places to eat, because nobody wanted to eat the same thing (of course not! Why would they want that??). Because everyone got what they wanted, everyone ate without complaining (I’m writing this day down in my journal).
The next stop was the Chaparral Cars.
I love that ride because Dory can ride it too. It is one of the few that the entire family can do together. (There are actually quite a few that even babies can ride on, but Lloyd is usually the hold out.) As we came off the ride for the second time, I noticed that the drawstring Star Wars bag that I had shoved the diapers, wipes, baby food, sunscreen, and my wallet in was kind of hanging out of the bottom of the stroller. I pulled it out and shuffled through just to make sure everything was there. But it wasn’t; My wallet was missing.
Let me briefly interrupt to describe my wallet to you: It is the first “grown-up” wallet I have ever had. All my other wallets were tri-folds that I bought at Wal-Mart and their main feature was usually Velcro. No, seriously. This Coach wallet, like most of my luxuries, was a gift from my mom.
I am not the kind of person who buys brand names, because there are NINE of us. I’m glad that we can buy anything! But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the finer things in life. Now back to our regularly scheduled blog post:
Immediately I grabbed Adam and showed him the bag. He dug through it too and came up empty. Then he asked:
“Are you sure you brought it with you?” It’s a valid question.
Confession: My memory isn’t always the best. I’m pretty sure “Where did I put the keys?” will be engraved on my head stone. But this time, I was feeling pretty certain.
“I remember grabbing it out of my purse and shoving it in the Star Wars bag with all the other stuff. I know I had it at the movies because I was going to use cash to pay for the popcorn, but then you got it while I got seats.”
Adam frowned, but didn’t panic (unlike me). “Let’s not stress about it now. You probably left it in the van with your purse.” Fair enough. I tried not to cry, and off we went to the next attraction. While the kids went on the log flume, I went through the entire stroller to make sure it wasn’t there. It wasn’t.
Okay, okay. It must be in the van. Deep breath.
We went on rides, we played in the sprayers, it was a good day.
When everyone was good and tired, we headed back out to the car. There we turned it upside down looking for my wallet. It wasn’t there.
With all the kids loaded, strapped and buckled, we sat in the parking lot while Adam called the park to talk to Lost and Found to the sound track of the kids saying “Why aren’t we moving? How come we’re just sitting here?” (We had to call on his phone because my battery died. Yeah, I’m one of those.) No one had turned in a wallet matching that description, so I gave them my email address and they sent me a link to file a lost report with security. I filled it out while we sat in traffic on the drive home – where a random lady honked at us loud and long, then vigorously flipped us of several times for a truly unknown reason. Who flips off the homeschool van?? But again, I digress.
The movie theater was on our way home, so Adam pulled in long enough for me to jump out and plead my case to the manager. He was gracious and went to check the lock-box. No wallet. I honestly didn’t think I had left it there, because I remembered moving it from my purse to the Star Wars bag, and that was after the movies.
Despite my “memory,” I was still holding out hope that we would walk in the house and my wallet would be sitting there on the credenza.
We arrived home. I rushed through the front door and made a bee-line for the credenza. My wallet….! ….was not there. IT WASN’T THERE.
So now the tears that I have been fighting back half the day start falling. I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have taken it to the park. I should have just left it at home. I shouldn’t have left it in the stroller when we were on the rides. I can’t believe I lost all my cards, my temple recommend!, and more cash than I usually carry with me. Waaaaahhhhh.
I take a break from looking long enough to post on Facebook that it looks like my wallet got stolen at Six Flags.
Adam hasn’t given up yet. He sends me out to check the van again while he looks through the living room. We both still come up empty.
“The last time I actually remember FOR SURE having my wallet in my hand was when I bought the punch-needle last night at JoAnn’s. Where is the JoAnn’s bag?” I wander around the house looking in all sorts of ridiculous places while muttering, “Where’s the bag? I know it was in the bag. There’s a bag. Oh, that’s a Wal-Mart bag. I need a JoAnn’s bag.” I make a full circuit of the house doing this and come back to the living room.
There stands Adam, looking like he’d as soon kiss me as smack me (I jest friends, he’d never lay a finger on me), holding out my wallet.
“It was under the printer in a JoAnn’s bag.” Hurray! Hurrah! HALLELUJA! Thankyouthankyouthankyou Lord, my wallet is found.
“Since it was in our living room, I don’t think it counts as ever having been lost,” Adam opines.
Po-tay-to Po-tah-to, my friends.
Have you ever “lost” something, only to find that you had it all along? I would love to hear your stories (read: “Please please please normalize my ridiculous short term memory issues.”)