Losing It

                                                                      

                                                                 

Recently, my husband and I took the train downtown for an appointment. Afterward, we purchased our return tickets, and proceeded on a walk. When we passed the hotel where we were married over twenty-five years ago, my husband realized that he had lost one of the tickets. Apparently, when he took his cell phone out of his pocket to track our miles, the ticket had fallen out.

One moment we were blissfully reminiscing about our wedding day, and the next we were out in the blustery wind retracing our steps from the train station. The crowded sidewalks offered little hope of regaining the lost ticket, but my husband soldiered on. Just when I was ready to throw in the towel, we came to a little plaza off of the beaten path. Then he reached down, and picked up the missing ticket. Remarkably, it was in perfect condition; unsoiled by man or pigeon. The most amazing part is that my husband was able to spot the tiny slip of paper though he only has vision in one eye.

Throughout the years, I've misplaced keys, phones, and various things around the house. Unfortunately, when our kids are away I have no one else to blame. However, my mom wins the award for having lost the most unusual item.

Once I walked into my mom's apartment to find her frantically searching her refrigerator. When I asked what she was looking for she told me that somebody stole her half of hamburger. It was leftover from the night before and she was looking forward to having it for lunch. I told her that I doubted someone would deliberately steal her hamburger, and rummaged through her fridge. After I couldn't find it, I made her a half of turkey and cheese sandwich instead. Then I asked her if she could have accidentally left her doggie bag downstairs in the dining room, and she assured me that she would never have made that kind of mistake.

Later that night my mom called me with surprising news.  Miraculously, she found her beloved half of hamburger. It was inside a butter dish. We both checked the refrigerator, but I never would have thought that even a small hamburger would fit inside a butter dish. My mother was thrilled to find it, and now she could finally get a good night's rest. But I didn't want to take any chances so I suggested, "Maybe you should sleep with it under your bed in case the "Hamburglar" strikes again!"