One is the loneliest number

I have turned this house upside down and there is absolutely no sign of the silly thing. I know that it must be somewhere; buried in the dress up trunk, maybe, or somewhere in the dirty laundry. As of yet, however, all of my creative attempts to locate it have failed. I am handicapped by the fact that I have little knowledge of where anything is after a week of being sick and uninvolved with the daily happenings of my household, but I still fail to understand how such a pivotal item could just be... gone. I'm holding out a small amount of hope that Paul will be able to turn it up, but I'm not holding my breath. It's highly likely that we're just going to have to face facts here. One of Julia's primary pair of shoes is gone. Just gone.

One shoe. You take them off together, so you would think that one could later be found with the other, no? Apparently not. How does one lose a shoe? Misplacing such an item, I understand -- I am the queen of misplacing things. Keys, pens, even slippers might temporarily be mislaid and then, of course, rediscovered. But actually outright, permanently lost? I don't get it. Nonetheless, there is a precedent for such things in this house. Last summer, just about a month before the time came for fall shoes, Julia lost one of her white sandals. We searched high and low and up and down, but it was nowhere to be found. I was sure that it would turn up the day I replaced it, but it never did. Seven months later, the damn thing is still MIA. And now, it appear that the missing white sandal has claimed a hot pink mate.

I hated those shoes with a passion when Julia picked them out. And yes, I'll admit it, the prospect of losing one of those hideous shoes seemed highly appealing when we first brought them home. But they've grown on me, for no other reason than the fact that they still fit six months later (a little dirt to dull their radioactive glow didn't hurt, either). Buying those shoes was bad. But spending good money to re-buy them? That would be so very much worse.

First, the flu. And now, a day spent turning my entire house upside down hunting for heinous footwear. What have I done to deserve this week?

UPDATE FROM THE "BLOG IT AND THEN IMMEDIATELY PROVE IT FALSE" DEPARTMENT: I found it, of course. Can't imagine why I didn't just look in the oven in the first place. Where else would one expect to find a missing shoe? I wasted an entire day of my life on this quest and am now rejoicing over the discovery of something I actively dislike. Still not a very positive commentary on my week. But at least we don't have to go shoe shopping on top of everything else...