Oh, it’s terrible when it has gone missing. And it goes missing A LOT these days.<\/p>\n
Why? Well, it could have something to do with the remote control fairies that live in my house — grumbling, fat fairies with beer bellies and a desire to scratch all manner of regions while eating pork rinds and grumbling about baseball. It’s either them, or my 14-month-old daughter who would never hug a doll, but will cradle and cuddle the remote like it’s a kitten.<\/p>\n
That is, when she’s not gnawing on it like a ravenous dog who has gotten hold of a soup bone. There is nothing worse than a baby-slimed remote that needs to be sanitized and pressure washed on a nightly basis.<\/p>\n
I take that back: There is something worse, and that’s when the remote goes missing. At least when it’s dripping in saliva, you can use a pencil to change channels or put on gloves. But a missing remote just doesn’t work. And it will drive you batty.<\/p>\n
Good luck finding it. When I ask my wife if she knows where it is, she tells me the last place she saw it. When I tell her it’s not there anymore, she just shrugs and says matter-of-factly, “It could be anywhere.”<\/p>\n
Well, I know that! And that is exactly the problem. It not only could be anywhere. It IS anywhere. It’s there, because it sure ain’t here. And I will drive myself crazy looking for it.<\/p>\n
Goodness knows I’m not going to just change the station on the TV. Inevitably, it’s always on channel 4 and I want to watch something on channel 168. That’s 164 stations I would manually have to click through. That could take years!<\/p>\n
So I begin the hunt, and my shoulders get progressively tighter and more hunched over as I go. My eyebrows dip deeper down the horizon line of my forehead. And the longer it takes, the more I growl and grunt like a gorilla with a root canal.<\/p>\n
It could be anywhere! So I look everywhere. One day I called home to ask my wife about something and heard this: “Yeah, let me get it. It’s wait a minute Hey! Don’t you dare put the remote control in the toilet ” and the line went dead.<\/p>\n
So I always look in the toilet first. What a world, what a life. When it’s not there, I move on. Garbage cans next. Then sock drawers. I look in places too high for the little one to reach, because anything is possible. I look in the flour, just in case. I look in the toaster and the washing machine when I start running out of obvious spots.<\/p>\n
Funny thing is you find all sorts of things while you’re looking.<\/p>\n
“A soap dispenser behind the sofa? Hmmn. Guess it belongs there,” and I push the sofa back to cover it up. (My wife really isn’t going to be pleased when she reads that, but I was on a single-minded mission.)<\/p>\n
One night I looked for 20 minutes, only to find it next to the TV on the TV stand. Now that’s just evil trickery by a little kid. She knows what she’s doing!<\/p>\n
Other nights, I’ll look down and there the remote will be on the ottoman. Great. Two seconds later, the speedster dashes through, scoops it up and deposits it somewhere else.<\/p>\n
Noooooo!!!!!!<\/p>\n
I’m now considering chaining it to the sofa, or buying several of them. But until then I will just keep up my nightly hunts, and hope I never find it floating in the toilet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Oh, it’s terrible when it has gone missing. And it goes missing A LOT these days. Why? Well, it could have something to do with the remote control fairies that live in my house — grumbling, fat fairies with beer bellies and a desire to scratch all manner of regions while eating pork rinds and grumbling about baseball. It’s either them, or my 14-month-old daughter who would never hug a doll, but will cradle and cuddle the remote like it’s a kitten. That is, when she’s not gnawing on it like a ravenous dog who has gotten hold of a soup bone. There is nothing worse than a baby-slimed remote that needs to be sanitized and pressure washed on a nightly basis. I take that back: There is something worse, and that’s when the remote goes missing. At least when it’s dripping in saliva, you can use a pencil to change channels or put on gloves. But a missing remote just doesn’t work. And it will drive you batty. Good luck finding it. When I ask my wife if she knows where it is, she tells me the last place she saw it. When I tell her it’s not there anymore, she just shrugs and says matter-of-factly, “It could be anywhere.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-113","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2-2-2-2","category-parenthoodandchildren"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=113"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=113"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=113"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=113"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}