I hear this line on a near daily basis from my wife.
I don’t know, it’s not mine!!
My favorite is when she can’t find her keys. Hilarity usually ensues when she loses them, which is quite frequently.
Want to know what I do when I get home?
I take my keys out of my pocket, unclip my ID tag for work and I place them on this small table we have in the hallway. I put my stuff there because I know that the next day when I need them they will be there. Sounds simple enough doesn’t it?
Not for my wife. She feels the need to come home and just fling her belongings throughout of the house. Keys on the kitchen table that somehow end up with mounds of shit on top of them. As if she purposely put them underneath all that crap just so she could continue her streak of, “Do you know where my keys are?”
In my defense I (somehow) usually find them. Sometimes it’s truly a miracle.
Funny thing is, she gets a little irritated with me when I can’t find her stuff. She gets irritated because I always point out that what she can’t find is, in fact, her stuff and not mine and that I know where my stuff is because I routinely put it in the same place.
Then I tend to rag on her for not putting her stuff where it belongs and not just flinging it throughout the house, which in turn results in her asking me as she just did where her stuff was.
If she would just put her shit where it belongs we would most definitely put an end to this vicious cycle!
(Side note: Her parents actually got her a key finder for Christmas this year.
Don’t worry, can’t find that either.)