Changing out some spring decorations for summer themed accents, I worked in the attic, packing and unpacking items in and out of their boldly labeled bins. Opening the summer container, I saw a large drawing of a Snowman and checked the label on the outside again to confirm this was to hold beachy home decor pieces. I reached in and lifted out the snowflake festooned item and recognized it was a canvas shopping bag. Underneath were two more, followed by a glass seagull and miniature wooden lifeguard stand.
I have no idea why the winter totes were in the summer bin but I do know that I spent a lot of time in this same attic last December searching for these Christmas bags. In the busiest time of the year, with not a moment to spare, the search for these carriers crossed the line of annoyance to all-out rage quickly. You know what I’m talking about. When you no longer even care about the missing thing but now it’s personal and it’s war. I’m not proud of myself but after days of looking in December, I had no choice but to surrender.
Seven months later, there they were. And as angry as I was about losing them, I couldn’t even work up a curse word upon finding them. That’s a teaching moment right there but since it’s summer break, I’m not going to study it. I will simply pack the bags in the proper bin.
One hundred seventy-one days until December 25th. I wonder how many things I will lose until then, how many times I will use colorful language over missing items? After all, the Naughty List ain’t gonna write itself.