Once upon a time, I was sane. This I know. I could set things down and hours, days, even weeks later, I could remember where they were. It was a simple time, a beautiful time, a time before the hurricane that is Alexis.

And then came that fateful day when Alexis learned to walk, and with it she brought her magical powers. She apparently has an army of Invisible Minions who sweep through our house, quickly hiding every important item. Set down your keys? They walk away. Place a bag of cheese on the kitchen counter? It vanishes. Carefully place a knitting needle in a basket? *POOF!* It's gone.

After two plus years of dealing with the magic feet, I've grown accustomed to not knowing where the heck anything is. When I can't find my sunglasses which I know were in my purse, I know that they have grown legs. If the TV remote isn't on the stand where it belongs, I know that the invisible minions have transferred it to a pile of toys. Sometimes I'm lucky enough to find the Invisible Minion hiding place, and sometimes I lose my mind trying to find something in a rush.

Recently, two grand events have led to the undermining of the Invisible Minion Army. First of all, it seems that when you pack up most of your crap for a move, magical things happen. STUFF APPEARS. Years ago a knitting needle entered the Witness Protection Program, but a few weeks ago? I totally found it under our bed stuffed inside a pillow. Right next to the knitting needle I found the plum that I knew Alexis was eating on our bed one morning, but that just suddenly up and walked away (I wish I had a photo of it because petrified plums are spectacular!). Even the Bed Lady and TV Dude from Mrs. Goodbee have magically reappeared. It's been fantastic!

The other major development is that I finally figured out that if I just ask Alexis if she knows where the object of my affection has gone, sometimes she knows. It seems that her Invisible Minion Army is about 80/20 for remembering to report back to her on the exact location of the treasures that they collect. Just this week she has managed to accurately describe the hiding place for her comb, my black shoes, and the dog bone. It was beautiful.

And then there was the day I couldn't find my car keys. That day? Was not beautiful. I KNEW they were in my camera bag, but yet they weren't. I checked the couch. I checked the floor. I checked the kitchen counter. I checked the laundry. I checked EVERYWHERE. Once it dawned on me that the Invisible Minion Army might have been in on the disappearance, I asked Alexis. She quickly admitted that she had seen my keys, and immediately said, "they're in a box!"

We're moving.

Everything we own is in a box.

So, I tried to get her to narrow down the hunt. She told me the box was in the garage.

All the boxes are in the garage. Literally, hundreds of them. Some are taped shut, some are not. Given that I had no idea when the keys had walked away, they could have been in just about any of those boxes.

I found them, but it took a loooooong time.

I used to be sane.

(Pssst . . . got a second to vote?)