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Lost and Found

monitorGather round children, and let me spin you an improbable tale of devastating loss and miraculous recovery, a story difficult to believe yet stunningly accurate, a frankly major motion picture worthy narrative that would make moviegoers both openly weep in sadness and pump their fists in unbridled excitement.

Ok – it’s not THAT exciting. But still interesting nonetheless.

Way back in the beginning of June, which my sun-addled brain can now hardly recall with any clarity, my wife embarked upon a bi-weekly nap time ritual – mowing the lawn.  Before the traditionalists raise their hackles about her handling this particular chore and not me, I should point out that she ENJOYS it, or at least tolerates it where in fact I despise it.  My fate instead is to scrub the stink out of the bathrooms every now and then – a fair trade if you ask me.  But I digress.

So with my daughter precariously asleep in her crib, my wife outfitted herself with her mowin’ shoes, strapped one of our monitor handsets to her waistband and fired up our trusty mower to halve our blades of grass.  She successfully trimmed our front lawn, which in the summer is generally more dirt and and sticks than grass (thanks to two gargantuan pine trees), and proceeded to the back.  She did a couple of passes on the back, and then stole a quick glance at our trusty light-up monitor to see if Justine was stirring.  The monitor was suspiciously absent.

Not a big deal, she thought, I must’ve dropped it.  She retraced her steps, scanning for the white monitor amidst the freshly hewn grass.  She searched the front yard.  She searched the house.  She tackled the mailman and searched his satchel to no avail.  The monitor had simply vanished.  Thoroughly confused, and perhaps drunk (I’m just guessing), she shrugged and completed the task at hand, in a constant state of cringe at what she assumed was to be an imminent shredded monitor.  It never came.

That afternoon, my wife hosted a gaggle of mothers and their children for a play date.  She delivered her tale of woe to the sympathetic women and their savagely uninterested toddlers, and they all began scouring the yard for the missing monitor.  Despite discovering a number of other missing items – a few ball-pit balls, a wooden puzzle piece and an original draft of the Constitution buried in our side yard, no one turned up the monitor.

I returned home from work, and listened incredulously as she laid out what had happened and everyone’s seeming incompetence at finding a relatively large handset monitor that lit up like a Christmas tree.  With my usual sneer I set about the simple task of turning up the shy electronics.  Much to my amazement, it was nowhere to be found, despite even my own expert searching.

After a heavy rain the next day, we were forced to abandon our search, confident that the monitor had either been rendered inoperable by the water or pilfered by roving bands of unsupervised teens hell-bent on causing minor inconveniences for newly minted parents.  After a brief moment of silence in which we all held hands and remembered “the good times” with the monitor, we turned our attention towards a burgeoning summer of parties, vacations, and many a night of drunken Parcheesi.

And then, just a few weeks ago, months after it had disappeared, we discovered the fate of our little white friend.  As I was unceremoniously uprooting plants trying to wrangle our hose into the yard to fill Justine’s water table, I uncovered our electronic marvel under one of the hostas in our garden.  I picked it up, admiring the relatively good shape it was in, and then scared the bejesus out of our cat as I scampered inside to show my newfound quarry to my shocked wife.

Thus the cycle of loss and recovery was complete – the question that haunted my dreams had finally found an answer, and that small hole missing our lives was once again filled in.  Or something.  But the most amazing part?

IT STILL WORKS.

Nice work, Fisher Price.

- MWF -

Happy Fatherhood Friday to all, and to all a good day!

Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs

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  • theteachertom

    I like that you were arrogant enough to think your “expert searching” would do the trick. That's just what I would have done . . . I hope you point out to everyone that it was you, in the end, who did find it even if it was months later. =)

    Fun to read.

  • http://www.pjmullen.com PJ Mullen

    I'm with Tom, I so would have used the “I TOLD you I'd find it” line…

  • http://heirapparent.frantzylvania.com mwfrantz

    Now that you mention it, I believe I did miss that opportunity. I'm off to find the wife to rectify the situation…

  • RecycledDad

    What's a hosta? (How lazy am I? I'm on the Internet right now, and I'm asking you the meaning of a word instead of Googling it. But based on what I've read in this post, I think your definition will be better than Merriam-Webster's.)

  • weaselmomma

    That's awesome that it still works!!!!

  • http://heirapparent.frantzylvania.com mwfrantz

    A hosta is a shade plant which we nonsensically planted in the middle of our
    fully-sunshine receiving half-moon garden. It has really big fronds,
    generally with some kind of stripe down the middle. The area under the
    fronds is great for small rodents to live and apparently baby electronics to
    survive rainstorms…
    Mark

  • http://heirapparent.frantzylvania.com mwfrantz

    Yeah – we let it dry out for a week or so, and I felt like there was
    at least a small chance it would explode when I plugged it in, but it
    didn't even sizzle when it got juice – it just scoffed at it's month
    in the garden like it was nothing. Amazing.

  • http://heirapparent.frantzylvania.com mwfrantz

    I followed this suggestion – my wife suggested that I discover what
    life was like for the monitor by sleeping under the hosta tonight…

    On Friday, September 4, 2009, Disqus

  • http://heirapparent.frantzylvania.com mwfrantz

    Yeah – we let it dry out for a week or so, and I felt like there was
    at least a small chance it would explode when I plugged it in, but it
    didn't even sizzle when it got juice – it just scoffed at it's month
    in the garden like it was nothing. Amazing.

  • http://heirapparent.frantzylvania.com mwfrantz

    I followed this suggestion – my wife suggested that I discover what
    life was like for the monitor by sleeping under the hosta tonight…

    On Friday, September 4, 2009, Disqus