Thursday, March 24, 2011



That’s what I am today. Just plain stumped.

I think I’ve told y’all this before, but I have a slight bit of a problem when it comes to losing stuff. When I lose something, it’s not just the object that’s gone – it’s my “religion” too.

I look. I ponder. I fuss. I fume.

I hate not being able to find something that’s lost.

Sometimes, it’s my own fault. I will admit to not being the best at putting things away when I’m finished with them. As much as I love my jewelry, I’m especially prone to just putting it down “wherever” at the end of the day.

(This might help explain why I’ve had at least one ring, one pair of earrings, and one necklace go missing in the past several years.)

Now, it’s not something of mine – it’s something of Anna Marie’s. It’s her Chess Club shirt.

Apparently, my kid hasn’t gotten the message that “Chess Club” automatically means “Big Nerd” in most parts. She loves playing chess, and gets pretty annoyed that I don’t catch on as easily as she did. I think to be a successful chess player, you have to be able to think through the consequences of your actions and see several steps down the road.

"Strategery" is not my strong suit. After all, if I were able to better see the consequences of my actions in the long term, I have an easier time resisting those cupcakes my sister brings when she comes over!

But I digress.

Anna Marie has been after me for weeks – no, make that months - to find that shirt. She has Chess Club every two weeks after school, and she’s only worn that shirt once or twice. And then, on Tuesday I received an email from the teacher that went a little something like this:

“We’re taking pictures at Chess Club on Thursday, so if you bought a shirt for your child, they need to wear it!”

Cue panic attack in 3, 2, 1…

I knew I hadn’t been able to look for that shirt. I knew I wasn’t going to be home until late in the evening on Tuesday and Wednesday.

I knew this was probably a lost cause.

But still, I looked. I poked. I prodded. I pouted.

And no shirt.

So today, instead of a royal blue T-shirt, she’s wearing a red polo. As I child, I would have been mortified by the thought of just another thing making me stand out, making me different, from the other kids. But Anna Marie was non-plussed. She pointed out to me that not everyone would have a shirt, because not everyone had ponied up the money and bought one.

My kid, the eternal optimist.

At least I’ll be able to spot her when the picture comes out.

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