(More than) Fourinarow.net

So.  I bought myself an iPhone the other day. I shouldn’t have forked over all that money, but I’ve been pining for one and I had a really good month with Uppercase Living, so I splurged. I probably should have spent the money on underwear and socks for my kids, but really… if they go without for a while, who will know? Unless they tell someone. Which, they probably will.

Anyway, I LOVE the iPhone. It’s so cool and easy to use that my daughter already knows how to show off the pictures I have loaded on it. I’m afraid I may become addicted, given the chance. I can check my email, send messages, use it as a phone, store photos, jam to music, keep my calendar and do more than I’ll probably ever imagine. As I’ll be using it for my business, I should be able to write some of it off, don’t you think?

Okay, okay. I’m finished bragging about my new iPhone.  Now let me brag about my children. About how, for instance, they can make things disappear within seconds of seeing something new in the house. No, they didn’t swipe my iPhone, but someone did swipe my charger. I had the phone for less than 24 hours and suddenly found myself without a way to charge it.

I’d had my phone, charger and computer out during an utterly chaotic playdate with Kristina and her boys. (It wasn’t utterly chaotic because of them, I must add, but because of my own sweet children.) Most of the kids were upstairs, but Sam wanted to hang with the moms. It wasn’t too long before the other kids followed. Before things went too crazy, I swooped up my stuff and put it all out of reach. Or so I’d thought.

Later, after the D team went home and my kids had eaten lunch and The Little Boys were napping, I pulled out my equipment and discovered that the charger was missing. I started a search. Then I searched again. Then I went on an EXTENSIVE search. Hours later, I was still searching. I looked through all the clothes in everyone’s drawers. I looked in the fridge and freezer. I went through the trash. I looked in all the couch and chair cushions. I dug through the dog food. I looked in all the toilets. I went through the hamper. Looked in all the pots and pans. There isn’t a place in this house I didn’t look.

I did a lot of cleaning and decluttering as I searched, but I became increasingly frustrated. That charger was in this house. Somewhere. I pulled up a picture of it on the computer and showed it to each of my children. “Where is it?” I asked. “I don’t know,” they each answered. Lukie then said something about taking it from the counter and throwing it high up into the air in the living room, but then putting it back. I re-searched the living room. (The fireplace, the furniture – under, over, in between – the plants, the curtains.) Nada.

I told the kids that if we found the charger we could have an ice cream party. They all ran off into different directions, excited by the prospect. They searched for about three minutes, returned empty handed, and then asked if they could have the party anyway. Ummmmm. No.

Later last night, after the kids were in bed, I asked Dan to help me look. Twenty minutes later, after tearing himself away from his highest scoring Brickbreaker game on his Crackberry, he joined the hunt. (I think he was inspired when I told him what it would cost to replace it.)

Four and a half minutes later he returned triumphant. I couldn’t believe it.

It had been, in fact, in the living room. Partially under the chair and next to the base of our new lamp. I had looked in that area more than once. I’d even gotten down on my hands and knees. I don’t see how I could have missed it.

Oh, well. At least I have a cleaner, less cluttered house, right?