- remote controls
- rocket engines
- men's size small underwear
- bike locks
- keys to a car I rarely drive
- the checkbook
- the other checkbook
- an iPhone
- a game case for an Xbox game (even though my thumbs haven't evolved enough to use a controller like that)
- a set of screwdrivers
- a tape measure (that actually is MINE)
- a boys size xl swimsuit
- beach towels
- the camera
- the video camera
- our passports
- fishing gear
- some sort of tool that I couldn't identify even if my life depended upon it
all for my own personal enjoyment and satisfaction.
The K.o.S title has even prompted me to only own purses that can hold just my shit.
We had my mom over for dinner and blowing up stuff for the Fourth. Panicked and stricken, Sam came bursting into the room with a dire emergency. He couldn't recharge his phone. "I've looked everywhere."* Darren and I were unfazed by the emergency phone cord loss. It happens almost every day. Mom wanted to call out the National Guard. But, I held strongly to the beliefs that
a. It's not my phone and if he wants the perk of having a phone he has to be responsible for said phone and all it's cords, attachments, do-dads and deelie-boppers (Those were all extra and were paid for out of said owner's allowance.)
b. Responsibility training is a difficult, but essential part of my job.
c. Never treat an only child as if they're the complete center of the universe if you don't have to.
I have to wonder if they ever ask themselves why I never ask them where my shit is.
*This phrase is a prerequisite when approaching the K.o.S. The speaker must convey the extreme peril of the situation and his already thorough searching.