The Underground Escape Network

There are a growing number of items in my house that have gone missing.  Not little things like my watch or that crappy mechanical pencil that I got to commemorate my tenth year of working at that crappy old job I had (although that’s missing too!).  No, I’m talking about things that are either very important or are big-ticket items.  They are the kind of things that just shouldn’t be disappearing and when they do, I walk around the house, asking the universe, “are you kidding me?”  It’s incomprehensible that these things can just vanish.  They have literally been disappearing in a “there one day, gone the next” kind of way.

Among the things that have gone MIA are:

  • The keys to the new front door we just installed: This complicates our comings & goings but the children still fit nicely through the window and usually let me in right away
  • My tool kit: It wasn’t a huge tool kit but I was always very careful to put it away because The Hubbin’ doesn’t always know where his tools are and it was handy to have a screwdriver available when I needed one.
  • The telephone: Yep, no kidding.  The phone is gone.
  • An exercise ball: One of the big ones that you sit on.  You know, really big, hard to lose.
  • A stroller: We took this on vacation and I know it made it home.  Now, it’s gone.

All of these missing items, along with the toys that seem to disappear by the hundreds, have me convinced that there is some kind of an organized escape plan among my household items.  I’m pretty sure that they have mobilized to form an underground escape network in order to get away from us.  Now don’t get me wrong, if I had a good opportunity to flee, I probably would too.  I’m just a little miffed that they’ve banded together against me.

I’ve been suspicious for a while.  I frequently walk through the house and find toys on the floor and something about them seems off.  Like they’re trying to be still.  Especially when they’re close to the doors.  Sometimes they’re even camouflaged.  Hiding behind a wicker basket, on the lower bookshelf, hanging from the dog’s leash.  Almost hidden.  Every time I find them, they’re very still and stare straight ahead with a blank look.  Like they are trying to avoid eye contact.

So, when does this escape happen and where do they go?  They must wait for the times that The Oldest and The Middle leave the door open.  That, right there, gives them 30-40 opportunities a day.  Once they get out, where do they go?  Is there a nexus of escapees that meet the fugitive on the other side?   Do chewed-up GI Joes and one-legged superheroes guide them to a better life?

I’ve tried to figure out which direction they would go once they escaped.  Going East would be a bad idea because the people who failed to secure the early intervention that would have made me a more well adjusted member of society (aka The Parents) live just East of us.

Now, The Parents do come over a lot, always carrying a bag of toys that I don’t remember the kids having taken to their house.  And when everyone has left, and I’m alone in the room, I open the bag; laugh my Wicked Witch laugh and whisper, “Welcome back, you little bastards.”  And they stare straight ahead.  Avoiding eye contact.  Those unshakable bastards!

4 Replies to “The Underground Escape Network”

  1. Haha. The mental picture of you walking through the house and suspiciously eyeing the toys is too funny!

  2. I’ve had the same sorts of problems, except it’s usually my husband who goes missing just when I need him to help me find the case of beer and big bag of corn chips I just bought.

  3. […] had a lot going against him anyway. I’m pretty sure he’s an unfortunate victim of the Underground Escape Network . He either was injured trying to make a break for it, got caught up with the wrong group of […]

  4. Discovered your post , just today. Thanks for the laughter.

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