Maybe I didn’t get to see everyone I would have liked to on Thanksgiving, but I am grateful for the ones that were seated around my table. We feasted on turkey and ham, with all the traditional sides, then just to be sure we were completely stuffed, we added desserts.
Later that afternoon, we decided that we would all load up on our crab boat and go watch the sunset together, so everyone went different directions to find sweatshirts, hats and shoes. My husband, Derrick, was going to go down to the boat ahead of us and have everything ready to go. He came in and said, “Babe, where is my wallet?” This is a very common question in our house, and I normally go look and find it within minutes. That wasn’t the case this time.
Derrick and my nephew searched outside, (where they had fried a turkey earlier) and we searched inside. Derrick was positive he had removed it from his pocket and placed it next to him, when he took a nap earlier that day. We continued our search, but it was quickly approaching sunset time and we knew we needed to go in order to catch it. As we got into his truck, Derrick said, “We’re going to go watch the sunset, but I’m just sick over my wallet.” Personally, I was shocked that he was still taking us, but also secretly pleased that he was putting our desires above his angst.
We enjoyed our boat ride and the porpoises followed the boat and jumped and played, causing my granddaughter to clap with glee. No matter how many times we see that, and we’re blessed here to see it often, it’s still such a beautiful sight.
Papa enjoyed the time with the family but he did ask Ayda once more on the way home if she had seen his wallet. She shook her little pink hooded head, no.
On the way home, Derrick lamented again about the wallet and how he just didn’t understand how it could have disappeared. Fun was over, and now his mind was back on the lost wallet. We came inside and started looking again. My husband was holding up one end of the couch as I knelt down and searched. We heard a small voice say, “Papa, I found your wallet” and my granddaughter came around the corner with said wallet in her chubby little hand.
I said, “Did you hide Papa’s wallet, Ayda?” She bobbed her little head up and down. I asked her where and she pointed with a smile behind a framed picture of my grandparents on a bookcase shelf.
Her Papa took the wallet and smiled and gave her a hug and thanked her for finding it. This surprised me and I said, ‘Okay, Ayda, over here, we need to talk”. I had my husband open the wallet and show her the money inside and the important ID cards, and we explained (in 5 yr. old language) why its assumed loss caused us undue stress.
She said she took it while Papa was asleep and hid it from him. She said, “It was right there” and pointed exactly to where he remembered it being last. Papa said, “I’m so glad to have it, I don’t even care that she hid it”. Ayda added a little mystery and adventure to the day I suppose, but I think the next time something goes missing, and she is around, we will know where to start looking!