We don't live in a very big house, but it seems to have an uncanny ability to swallow things. The house I mean, not T, although we did have an exciting human moneybox moment a few months ago when he wanted to see what a 20p piece felt like on the way down. Bumpy I'd imagine, unfortunately he was unable to tell me.
At the moment we're currently missing:
One pair of glasses. My husband's. This caused a slight problem when in an over-excited Hokey Cokey moment last week T managed to break the arm from his only remaining pair. A Reg Holdsworth-style sellotape fastening had to do for a whole week, in preference to not being able to see more than three feet in front of him.
One wedding ring. Again, my husband's. He took it off because it was 'annoying him' and put it safely 'in front of the TV in the bedroom'. Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind him taking off his ring, I had weeks of ring-free time last winter when eczema between my fingers caused them to chap and peel (also causing old ladies to look slyly at my left hand, at the buggy, and shake their heads sadly on the decline of modern society) but perhaps he could have found somewhere a little more, erm, secure to leave it. Anyway, it has clearly been squirreled away by a resident magpie as it's nowhere to be seen.
One RAS token. My husband's (noticing a theme here?) little radio controlled do-dah which allows him to access his work emails from home. Last seen on top of the laptop.
One baby monitor (parent unit). OK I take full responsibility for this one. Last seen being used as a mobile phone by T (walking and talking - 'hi, hi, hi, gan-ma') and now utterly disappeared. We have turned out the toybox, lifted the (very heavy) sofa and even paged it using the base unit. It appears to have run out of charge, either that or it's in some sort of parallel universe and doesn't feature the multi-world reception properties of Rose Tyler's mobile phone.
On the plus side the house is going on the market. In a slight pregnancy-induced 'need more space' panic we have decided to see what's out there in the 'bigger than small' category of housing. And everyone knows that when you're trying to tidy up, frantically moving clutter, trinkets and paraphenalia from room to room in a desperate attempt to make it feel bigger for the Estate Agent's photos, more rubbish (and things you thought lost) has an uncanny knack of appearing just at the wrong moment, making the job in hand much larger. That's what I'm hoping for anyway.