"MOM?!", I used to yell from every room in our house. "Where is my other shoe / my Depeche Mode tape / the toilet paper / my science book / my coat / all the pens?"
Sometimes, she pretended not to know the answer, (like in the case of the Depeche Mode tapes which she hid because she didn't like the words to a particular song). Sometimes, she would reply, "I don't know. Where did you put it?" My answer was always, "I dunno", so I'm not sure why she bothered asking.
The majority of the time, though, she knew the exact location of what I was looking for. "It's by the sliding glass door / it's under the sink, in the cabinet / it's on the dining room table / it's on the green chair in the living room". She always seemed to know!
How did she know? I never really wondered how my mom kept track of all my belongings, along with her own, and my dad's. That's just the way it was, and the way I felt that it should be.
There were a few other things I just felt she should know. "MOM?! When is my piano lesson / the birthday party / the recital / Dad going to be home?" She almost always knew those answers, too.
I don't recall my mom having a daily planner tucked into her purse, and Blackberry's weren't even invented, so how did she keep track of it all? It's simple...well, actually it's not simple...it's just a fact. She is a Mom. She was the daily planner, the clock, the activities director, the finder of all lost things. She was the captain of the ship. You see, without a Mom, the crew is lost at sea.
Lately, I find myself answering a lot of questions from my husband. "JEN?! Where is that receipt / my shoes / my keys / my cellphone / that phone number?" Then there's, "JEN?! What time is the cookout / the movie / the game / Dylan's appointment?"
Lucky for me, Dylan isn't talking much yet. For now his questions seem to be limited to, "Shoes?", "Unn?", "Meow?", "Dada?", and "Bubba?", or "Can we put my shoes on and go outside or somewhere in the car?", "Where's the cat?", "When is Daddy or Grandpa coming?"
But, I know the day is coming when I'll scream down the stairs, "I don't know, Dylan. Where did you put it?", to which I know that he will answer, "I dunno". I'm also pretty sure that I will then tell him the exact location of whatever he is looking for. Why? Because I am the Mom, and I am the captain of the ship. Ahoy, mates, it's smooth sailing from here on out.