The Elusive Black and Whites

I pulled up the blinds and peered out the window. What a grey dismal day out there. A fine mist was coming down and would wreak havoc with my hair if I ventured, even across the street, never mind my usual 5k walk.

“I’m not going today." I turned and gave my husband a sulky look. “I guess I’ll do the treadmill instead.”

“Okay then,” Jack said. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” he laughed. He reached down and clipped the leash on Daisy, our all weather pup who didn’t mind the weather, no matter what.

I slid out of my slippers and walked to the bedroom to change into my indoor runners. They weren’t there. I went to the shoe rack and they weren’t there. I went out to the kitchen to see if they were by the kitchen door, and they weren’t there. I backtracked to my room again and looked under the bed, under the footstool, into the shoe rack again and went through each pair of shoes methodically, to see if I just missed them somehow. Sometimes something can be right in front of you and you somehow don’t compute. Jack does that all the time when he opens the fridge. I smiled in spite of myself. No, they still aren’t there.

My mind whirs with confused possibilities. Where the heck did I leave them, and I actually remembered I had them yesterday and said to myself, “you will be looking for these tomorrow.” 

Where was that again?

I had them on yesterday and my neighbour came over and wanted to show me her new find that was in the trunk of her car. I remember saying, “just a sec, I have to change my shoes.”

I quickly raced to the utility room and looked. No, not there. My dirty outside runners were sadly alone right by the door where I could easily slip them on to go outside. I wasn’t going outside.

I was starting to feel a bit apprehensive and just a little bit stupid. They had to be here somewhere. I’d probably looked at them a couple of times and didn’t comprehend seeing them. Now that's a scary thought.

I sat on the couch and grabbed the walkie talkie and hit the button. “Jack, are you there?”

Yes,” his voice crackled back seconds later.

“Do you know where my runners are?”

“Aren’t they by the door?”

“Not my outside runners, my black and white runners.”

“Haven’t seen them. Are they by the treadmill?”

“Oh yeah, maybe, I’ll look there. I don’t know why they would be but I’ve searched this house up and down and I’ll be damned if I can find them.”

“Well, I’ll be home in 20 minutes and help you look.”

The walkie talkie beeped one last time and I set it on the coffee table, mentally taking note where I set it. Not going to take any more chances on losing something else. So many times we do things by rote and really don’t mentally acknowledge that for later.

I took the stairs two at a time and went into the home gym. No, not there. I looked under the coffee table, under the workout bench. I was grasping at straws because I knew they couldn’t be there. Surely, I would have remembered those bizarre places. I would never put them there.

True to form, Jack was back in 20 minutes and I was still futilely searching every room. 

“You’ll probably find them right away.” I said getting angry now. “I’ve probably walked past them half a dozen times and can’t see them for looking.”

Jack looked at me skeptically.

I piped up, “I’ve searched everywhere.” I threw my hands in the air.

I know he rolled his eyes as he walked away, but at least I didn’t have to witness it. I would have done exactly that if the shoe was on the other foot. No pun intended.

“This is exhausting.” I said. “They have to be here. I haven’t been anywhere.”

A lightbulb went off in my head and I realized I hadn’t looked in my ensuite bathroom. An unlikely spot, but so were all the places I’d already looked. That’s the only room I hadn’t been in yet. I knew they weren’t there, but whatever…..

No, right again. They weren’t there. I shut the door and walked back into my bedroom., the original starting point of my search. I brushed past the footstool at the end of the bed and banged into two huge cushions I’d piled on top of it last night before climbing in to bed. I should have put them back on the bed this morning, but soon, I'll do it soon.. Had I done that little job as normal I would have avoided this whole debacle, but by the same token I wouldn’t have had a story to tell.

FLASH! LIGHTBULB MOMENT!

“I know where they are.” I yelled even before I flipped up the cushions. Eureka!

There they were, my elusive black and white runners. I could have cried. I was so happy and relieved…not for finding them as much as for the fact that I remembered where they were before I found them. I again recalled the moment when I put them on the footstool that it's an 'odd' place to put them.

Is this what it’s like to get old? 

They say the first thing to go is your memory, but I’m not chalking this mishap up to that. I’m chalking it up to doing too many things at the same time and not being consistent when I put things away. Being scatterbrained in the mix doesn’t help either.

Jack’s skeptical about the whole event, I know he is. He forgets, conveniently, that he does it too, every now and then. But, it made for an interesting morning and I did get in my steps, probably 5k worth, just looking for my shoes, squatting here and there, and I know my heart rate was up the whole time.

It’s too late now to slip into these runners, but I am going to put them right where they belong. On the shoe rack, you know, with all the other shoes. They will be there waiting for me tomorrow when I need to go upstairs to the gym.

I am not discounting anything here. Just trying to make light of a predicament I found myself in and trying to see humour in my actions. As we age we are very wary and more than a little concerned when we do something silly and totally out of the box. My saving grace here was that I remembered in my eureka moment where those silly little shoes were hiding before I actually tossed the pillows and discovered I was right.

I am okay.

I will keep an eye out though!