Just started a new book two days ago. On chapter four. Having fun. Decided not to use personal pronouns anymore.

Just kidding.
Actually, I was sitting at my desk happily writing, when my husband came in the room, cup of coffee and plate of toast in hand, looking for tape.
Why do men never know where the tape it? Or the batteries, or the new package of toilet paper? I’m not the perfect house-keeper, but my brain, for some reason, keeps track of all these little things. I can be immersed in a new story and can still tell you where everything is.

“Tape is in the basket by the toaster. Batteries are in the drawer under the toaster in the kitchen…Where they always are.”

“Oh, right. Thanks.”

The tape is quite visible for anyone in the kitchen using either the toaster of the coffee maker (hubby makes his own toast and coffee in the morning) So he saw the tape at least three times before asking where it could be. The batteries never move. They’ve been in the same place for five years now.
I’m trying to form a hypothesis about men’s brains and looking for house-hold items. I will test it for a few years and it will evolve into a theory. Sort of like the theory of evolution only far easier to prove. I’m betting this will be accepted as fact in a few years’ time. Men’s brains only have room for toast and coffee.

P.S. – he just asked me where the strawberry jam was hiding…(It was next to the sugar bowl.)

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