Good Hiding

Carole’s started playing hide-and-seek with things.

It’s been a long-running and long-standing joke that she can, and will, lose track of anything she puts down. And that wasn’t so much of a problem when it was just her stuff, but she’s branching out now. She’s started to hide my things as well.

Annoyingly, I can generally find her missing stuff within minutes. Car keys, house keys, bottles of water, pens and things like that which slip through the fabric of space-time and seemingly vanish are an absolute doddle to locate.

For some reason when it comes to things I need, want, or require it’s a whole different story.

I realised, this afternoon, that I had no idea where the case for Nintendo Switch was. I knew where it used to be. It used to be on the dining table in the front room. But the dining table is no longer in the front room. It has been spirited upstairs into the spare room Peppa’s room my mum’s room Carole’s office and study space so that she can work on it.

Subsequently everything that was on it has been scattered to the winds.

Bizarrely, Carole remembered where she’d moved it to. If it was something of her own there wouldn’t be a chance of her ever seeing it again. But she’s strangely remembered its location.

Tonight, though, I get home from work. I was on a late shift so I got home at 11.20pm. Carole is asleep in bed. Before she has gone to bed she has hidden the laptop. The laptop I use to write this on. She’s hidden it. Squirrelled it away somewhere.

It took me fifteen minutes to find it.

I thought it might be up in the office. That she might have done some Open University nonsense – either some study or see what poncey bollocks is being spouted on the forums – on it and just left it up there. Nope. It’s not on the side where it normally lives when it’s not in use. It’s not in the kitchen where it lives when I’m cooking so I can binge gaming videos and videos of people falling over. It’s not where I left it when I went out.

Stored on the bookcase. Obviously. Atop some books. Tucked away on a shelf, out of the way. Where you wouldn’t really notice it unless you were desperately looking and had narrowed its location down to the front room purely because the power cable was in here.

I mean… it’s never, ever lived there in its life.

Ever. I don’t even think it’s been suggested as a place for it to live.

If this is what happens when I go out to work – a common theme across all my hidden items – I might have to start insisting she comes with me to keep me company.