Saturday, August 16, 2008

Mom, where's my....?

I have a husband and I have a son. They are of the same breed of most family members in America where they know the Mom knows and if she doesn't know then no one knows. I hear this phrase more than any other: "Mom (or Sugie) where's my ....?" It fascinates me on two accounts. One, that they think I know where the misplaced item is, and two; that I almost always do. I attribute this incredible knowledge of the location of all things to the fact that I'm usually the one that put it where ever it is. But even if I didn't, I have (as all mothers do) the ability to observe the household as a living breathing thing that keeps its occupants' things like secrets. Therefore, I have a pulse on the house and all things in it, hence, I typically know the answer to the question, "Mom, where's my....?" I also have an instinct of where one of my boys will have usually put something down without realizing it and then later wonder where it went and regardless of where that is, they know Mom will know if asked.

Today, Colin had a juice cup with white grape juice in it. He of course had laid it down somewhere and decided that he was thirsty and asked for more. The following was the conversation: 

Colin: Mom, can I have more juice? 
Me: Where's your cup?
Colin: I don't know.
Me: You're going to need your cup for more juice.
Colin: I'll get another one.
Me: No, find the one you just had. I believe it's blue.
Colin: It's lost.
Me: It's probably in your play room.
Colin: No, it's lost. 
Me: Go look for it. 
Colin: You find it. It's lost. 
Me: What do I get if I find it? 
Colin: The cup!


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