We went through every drawer and cabinet in my mom's place one more time yesterday to make sure we hadn't missed anything we wanted or needed. We sorted through pictures and papers organizing them into keep, shred, and recycle. But it wasn't as systematic as it might sound. We also wandered in and out of my mom's closets trying on familiar and unfamiliar garments, sat numbly on the couch, and Courtney and I went swimming, and Bill and I had our nails done.
It was somewhere in the middle of all that when Courtney realized she had misplaced her iPad. To further complicate the matter, the speakers on her device were recently damaged and so it was impossible to even play the lost sound alert. "I'm sure it will turn up," I told her, even though we had scoured the apartment. "If we don't find it, the packers will."
And it was resigned to that fact that we went to bed. This morning we all rose early, knowing that the crew was coming by nine. My sister, though, rose with uncharacteristic verve. "I dreamed where my iPad is!" she told us. "It's in the recycling dumpster."
"I'm ready for the mission!" I said.
"We need the step stool from Mom's closet," she said, "and a phone to FaceTime it so it will light up."
"Wow, you really have thought this through," I marveled, and it was true. She had been up in the middle of the night, but too prudent to go dumpster diving alone at that hour, so she did the next best thing: made a plan.
We both dressed Ninja-style in tights and black tops, and armed with step stool and phone headed down to the basement of the building to find. that. iPad!
And we did! It took a minimum of chucking a few cans and bottles and some of our own rejected documents, before Courtney lifted her iPad victoriously over her head. "Thank you, Mommy!" she said, and we both knew it was so.
It was somewhere in the middle of all that when Courtney realized she had misplaced her iPad. To further complicate the matter, the speakers on her device were recently damaged and so it was impossible to even play the lost sound alert. "I'm sure it will turn up," I told her, even though we had scoured the apartment. "If we don't find it, the packers will."
And it was resigned to that fact that we went to bed. This morning we all rose early, knowing that the crew was coming by nine. My sister, though, rose with uncharacteristic verve. "I dreamed where my iPad is!" she told us. "It's in the recycling dumpster."
"I'm ready for the mission!" I said.
"We need the step stool from Mom's closet," she said, "and a phone to FaceTime it so it will light up."
"Wow, you really have thought this through," I marveled, and it was true. She had been up in the middle of the night, but too prudent to go dumpster diving alone at that hour, so she did the next best thing: made a plan.
We both dressed Ninja-style in tights and black tops, and armed with step stool and phone headed down to the basement of the building to find. that. iPad!
And we did! It took a minimum of chucking a few cans and bottles and some of our own rejected documents, before Courtney lifted her iPad victoriously over her head. "Thank you, Mommy!" she said, and we both knew it was so.
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