Motherhood in Bermuda?

I have been living a lie!

All this time, 10 years to be exact, I thought that I was living in a quaint, picturesque, small town in el corazon (the heart) of Mexico.

But now I'm not so sure.

Where exactly do I think I'm living?  I'm not really sure, but I know it's somewhere in the middle of The Bermuda Triangle!  You know, that place where boats and airplanes mysteriously disappear into a curtain of fog never to be seen or heard from again.

Yeah, that would explain a lot of what goes on around here.  Things mysteriously disappear all the time.

Case(s) in point...

Runaway Silverware
We are a family of six and we love to eat.  (Well, most of us.)  That means I need to always have plenty of forks and spoons on hand for eating, snacking, cooking, baking and even crafting.  I know that I used to have more than a dozen of each, because I bought even more forks and spoons in September.  But somehow my collection of forks and spoons is down to five of each.  And three of those spoons are made of wood.  

My first instinct was to blame the kiddies, but when asked they knew nothing of my missing silverware.

Maybe Mother Goose was wrong and it was really the forks that ran away with the spoons!  

Mismatched Socks
Socks. Again, something we use a lot.  A pair a day, for each person...that's approximately 42 pairs of socks a week.  Or 84 individual socks.  That's not counting the girls' knee socks and the boys' dress socks for their school uniforms.

I've taught my children to bundle their socks together before throwing in them in the dirty clothes basket, so they don't get lost.  But somehow almost every one of my kiddies' socks are missing their better half.  The kiddies are absolutely, positively sure that they bundled them up after taking them off, but somewhere between the laundry pile, the washing machine and the clothesline, the socks have disappeared.

One flew away from the nest
Years ago, when we first moved into our house and before we adopted our first cat, we bought the kiddies bright, colorful baby chicks.  Pink, blue, green, yellow, purple and orange.  They were so fluffy and cute.  We kept them in a cardboard box in our second bathroom that we never use.  Every afternoon, we would let the baby chicks loose to soak up some rays in our back patio.  They wandered around happily and the kiddies loved running after them trying to get them back in their box.  But one day, Pinky disappeared.  We couldn't find her anywhere.  We looked all over the patio, under furniture and toys.  She was nowhere to be found.  It was as if she had vanished into thin air.

Missing Chorizo
The most recent incident happened sometime between yesterday and today.  Yesterday, Hubby made his weekly trip to the butcher.  I placed everything in the freezer, except for a bag containing half a kilo of chorizo.  I placed the chorizo in the fridge so I could make quesadillas with it for lunch today.  But when I went to take it out of the fridge this morning, it wasn't there!  I checked the freezer, thinking I might have placed it there by accident, but it wasn't there either.  So I asked the kiddies.  No one knew where it was or where it could be.  Then, less than five minutes later, they all suddenly remembered that they had seen the cats devouring my chorizo yesterday.

I asked them who had given the cats the chorizo, but again, they had no clue.

So, if Hubby and I aren't to blame and neither are the kiddies, that leaves only one logical conclusion...Toto, I don't think we're in Mexico anymore!

What do you think?


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