For the love of god, where did you put the apple?

Earlier this week, we lost the remote control. This has happened before, so we have a backup remote. We were pretty sure that 1) one of the kids put it somewhere and 2) it would show up eventually. I found it the following day in Moe’s crib, where, apparently, he slept with it all night.

For better or worse, Moe is becoming increasingly self-sufficient. He can do things like eat with a fork (but only if he’s eating cake), take off his shoes (but only when he’s not supposed to), and, in his latest achievement, take off his diaper (oh, joy). As kids tend to do, he has also gotten taller which has allowed him to climb to new heights, usually using the bookshelf to splash around in the fish tank. Fun times.

Sometimes Moe’s independence is cute and shows some nice problem solving skills. For example, he’ll move the ottoman under the light switches so he can climb up and turn the lights on and off. And if there is something tasty on the kitchen counter, Moe will gladly help himself. So earlier today, Moe saw half an apple up there, took it down and started eating it. It was pretty cute and I didn’t see any problem with him eating the apple, so I let him have it. He happily crunched away while he was playing with a toy. I may or may not have been surfing the web on my iPhone.

Time passes.

Jelly got up from her nap. Other stuff happened. And then I realized that Moe was no longer playing with his toy. He was running around, and there was no sign of the apple.

I have spent the last hour following Moe around trying to figure out where he put the apple. I looked in the toy bins, the pile of laundry in my closet, his crib – you know, the obvious places. I even checked the counter where the apple originated. Moe did put a Lego car there, but not the apple. I begged him to tell me. “MOE! Where is the apple?” No response. I heard Jelly coughing. Maybe she found it and was choking on a piece! Nope. (But in a gorgeous piece of irony, she was reading a book called “A Was Once an Apple Pie”). A clue perhaps? I checked the oven.

This story is not like the remote control story. There is no happy ending. The best case is that the dog found it and took it outside. The more likely case is that I will forget about the apple. Sometime in the (hopefully) near future I will be innocently getting into bed, or doing laundry, and my foot will find the wet, mushy remnants of something that may have once been an apple.