I hate it when


I outsmart myself. 

A few weeks ago a friend gave me a couple of Gameboys of some sort.  I only wanted them for desperate travel times so I didn’t really want the boys to know I had them.  She’d put them in some shopping bag because the boys were with me at the time so I needed to smuggle them home, undetected. 

Now, here we are, T-48 hours on a longish trip.  Thought it would be a good idea to bring these, just in case.  Not so much for the plane ride as they are pretty used to these flights but there’s going to be an 8 hr drive in there. 

Well, after I successfully smuggled them into the house, I then stashed them somewhere very safe from snoopy curious eyes and hands.  Obviously I found a very clever spot to put them in.  So clever, in fact, that even I can’t find them now. 

Why is it that I can remember the birthdates of people I haven’t seen in 25 years, phone numbers I haven’t used in years, credit card numbers complete with expiry dates and CCV #’s but not only do I have no idea where I put a bag with  a couple of Gameboys, I’ve been through the whole house and not a sign of them. 

When DH hides stuff from me, I can always find it.  I guess I should just get him to do the stashing next time.  Or maybe I should learn the fine art of drawing a buried treasure map, pirate style. 


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