Everytime something goes missing in this house, my husband blames our son. He's fifteen-months-old. Granted, he's a little tornado of activity, but he's generally not anywhere near the things my husband swears the "baby" loses (read: my unorganized husband).

I'm not organized. I, by nature, have accepted the fact that if I put something down somewhere, it will be swallowed up whole by the universe. I try. I try to have a system, purge what I don't need, but I always end up with more than and not knowing where to start to get back on track. I hate this about myself, but AT LEAST I know this about myself.

My husband lives in a dream world that he is truly organized and he's the only one around here that is. I have found this extremely entertaining ... until recently ...

In the past 48 hours, he has blamed our son for many things, but my favorites being:

1. No internet. ("Goddamn it, Sydney, the internet isn't working! What did Owen do??? He's always messing around with things and goddamn it if he didn't do something to this computer!!") Knowing full well the kid had not been anywhere near the computer nor had he possibly been within touching distance, I start crawling around on my hands and knees by the computer desk. My husband has close to eight million cords and wires and crap to the left of this desk. I start tugging and pulling until anything lose comes up, leaving everything that should be hooked up, hooked up. Turns out, while he (my husband) was stepping over this mound of shit to get something, he unhooked the PHONE cord. No wonder we had no internet.

2. Vapo Rub. 3 a.m. a few days ago, I wake up to hear, "Goddamn it, Sydney!! Where's my Vapo Rub? I bet the baby took my Vapo Rub!! I'm sick! I need that goddamn Vapo Rub! The baby is ALWAYS in my things ... ". Turns out, this economy sized Vapo Rub that I purchased for him (after another 3 a.m. incident a few months prior) was right in front of his eyes, under the sink, where he last put it (and a child lock has been on the cabinet the ENTIRE time).

And now, this morning:

3. The checkbook. "Where's my checkbook? The baby took my checkbook!! I can't find it, it should be right here! He is NOT allowed anywhere near my desk ever again! Mother fuck! Where's my checkbook?"

And, ladies and gentleman, at this point I lose my sanity. Enough with blaming the baby for your stupid organizational issues. It's not fair to blame the baby. If you lose something, own up to it. Granted, there are plenty of things the baby does rip through (tupperware drawer, for instance), but he's not seeking out your freaking checkbook. Good God.

My husband decides that he is mad at me now (because I'm right), storms upstairs and gets ready for work. He comes back down 20 minutes later, proclaiming the baby "just maybe" didn't lose anything.

YOU THINK????

(and yes, the checkbook was IN the right place, right in front of him .... grrrrrr!!!)