CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- "It's not an 'annoying habit,'" my husband insisted. "You should try to see it more as a charming tradition. Maybe an endearing little eccentricity."
"Searching for the remote two or three times every night isn't charming," I said.
"It's something you and I get to do together," Geoff said. "Just the two of us."
A fan of togetherness I might be, but most of the search parties sent out for missing items in our house have only one member -- me.
Geoff and Celeste are both quick to declare defeat if the object they're looking for isn't found right away. For them, defeat merely means involving me in the hunt. They're both totally fine with that part of the process, while I'm convinced their inability to find something on their own is directly related to how comfortable I happen to be at the time of their search.
The most frustrating part is that nine times out of 10, the item is exactly where I told them to look.
Like many women, I keep a running inventory of certain household items. If I see a pair of eyeglasses where they don't belong, the location is logged in my brain. If I notice a jacket slung over the back of a chair rather than left by the door, I take note. Some female friends I talked with say they do the same, yet in each of their households, a similar scenario is replayed on a regular basis.
He: "I can't find my keys."
She: "They're in the dish on the hall table."