Brain, present yourself
The item: A pair of baby nail scissors, specifically lizard scissors
The details: Last scene while trying to clean up the house before Super Bowl and by cleaning I mean taking everything and throwing it into a room that we can lock so not a soul can see how utterly messy I/we are
The cause: My 10-month-old's lengthy finger nails that will scratch her face and continue to grow with each day these scissors go missing
The action: Cleaning up a room all Sunday in hopes of finding missing scissors. Looking between couch cushions and finding a quarter but now what I was searching for...I digress.
The result: No such luck and although the room is clean - the item was still missing. So we drove in snow about twenty minutes (forty round trip) to the closest store that sells them to buy a replacement pair. They didn't have any so I sat with the employee for what felt like an hour so she could order them online and have them shipped to our house for free.
The kicker: I got home, looked behind a picture frame and there they were. The original pair of lizard scissors.
The conclusion: Our house is haunted.
**Amendment to original post. I shared the news of the lizard scissor reuniting moment with said husband. He starts laughing and realizes he was the one who put them there and totally forgot. The title of my next post may be "when it's ok to physically abuse husband"