This past weekend, Siena and I were hanging out, which generally means she’ll do something for a minute, then run to another room to do something else, then back to the first room, etc. As mama will attest, this is how I tend to misplace things like wallets, keys, phones, books, toys, pens, and drinks. (The sequence of events being that Siena needs some help or hugs, so I put down what I was fiddling with, then we run to another room, and by the time we get back to the original room, I’ve forgotten I’d even put anything down in the first place. This mostly happens with my big fat wallet–fat because of various information cards like AAA, health insurance, day care, and the like, instead of lots of cash, sadly–which I usually take out of my pants when I’m going to get on the floor with Siena; a crucial thing to misplace and discover it’s misplaced right before having to leave for work the next day.)
On this particular circuit, I misplaced a can of Pepsi.
After a while, parched, I informed Siena that I was looking for my soda (soda being the prevalent name both where I spent my formative years outside St. Louis and where we live now, see http://popvssoda.com:2998/countystats/total-county.html for details). Where was I? Oh yes, I told Siena I was looking for my soda.
Siena, being the good trooper she often is, walked over to the cabinet that holds our (non-alcoholic) drinks, opened up the door, reached in, and grabbed and pulled out a Pepsi. She walked over and handed it up to me, and said, “Here you go, daddy!”