The Case of the Missing T-Shirt

Mr. Bernie and I don’t have kids.  Which means I don’t have someone whining at me about needing something the next day for school. From time to time Mr. Bernie can’t find something. “Bernadette where is the mustard? Bernadette where are some clean socks?” I’ve been known to lose my bra in the house.  Usually, things are not very lost. When Mr. Bernie is looking for something there is never a deadline.

On Wednesday that changed. Mr. Bernie said to me, “I need my yellow Master Gardener’s shirt for Friday. We all have to wear that so the new kids can see what they get after putting in hours. Do you know where it is?” I had no clue what he was talking about. I knew of him getting a couple of polo shirts, that were too small, but don’t remember a t-shirt. I made a cursory look around and forgot about it.

Friday morning, my husband turned into a first grader.  He called out to me in a whiny  voice, . “Bernaddeeeettttteeeee, do you know where my yellow t-shirt is? I can’t find it. I have looked everywhereeeeeeee”  For the love of Mike! I forgot about the darn t-shirt. So I did what anyone would do in my case, I flew in the bedroom and started moving stuff around. I had recently washed every item of clothing we had. I honestly didn’t remember this t-shirt. I tore through his t-shirt drawer, looked in the closet, looked under the bed and so on. No yellow t-shirt.

Not being a Mom means I don’t have Mom guilt about stuff like this. Mr. Bernie likes to play on my Catholic guilt when he can, it amuses him. However, I don’t usually feel bad if I can’t find something for the Mr. I know it will turn up or he threw it away and it won’t. After searching high and low, I told him, “I’m sorry, I can’t find this t-shirt.” He whined, “Bernadette, I had to wear that to class today. I really wish I had my t-shirt. I’m going to be the only Master Gardener kid not wearing their t-shirt.” Then he pouted with a full lip quiver and everything.  I suddenly felt very bad. Like I failed him in some way. Even though I don’t remember ever seeing this yellow t-shirt. I suggested that perhaps he left it at work and it might turn up there. That placated him for a short while.

We got to work and he looked for this magical t-shirt. At this point I wanted to see the darn thing because I honestly don’t remember him getting one. It didn’t turn up at work. Which meant more whining about how he wished he had his t-shirt. He was going to be the only kid without his. Blah, Blah. His whining tugged on my heartstrings. I didn’t want my husband to be the only kid not wearing the right t-shirt. Sadly, my magic wand was at the cleaners and I couldn’t pull one out of thin air.

I did laundry over the weekend and still haven’t come across this t-shirt. Like any good wife I will contact his Master Gardener leader and get him a new one. That way he won’t be the only kid to not have his t-shirt.



  1. The difference with kids is that I don’t usually have to look very hard for what they have “lost”…or even what the hubs “cannot find”!

  2. benzeknees says:

    The first time I read your sentence about you losing something in the house I missed the little space between the a & the i, so I thought it read “I’ve been known to lose my brain in the house” instead of “I’ve been know to lose my bra in the house.” I was trying to figure out how you lose your brain. I’ve heard of losing your head if it wasn’t attached to your shoulders, but not a brain. So I had to go back & read it again. Funny post!

  3. Have you checked the vehicle he was driving when he got the shirt?

  4. You really are a good wife/mama. I don’t know what he would do without you – what nif he had to find his own t-shirt?

  5. Patricia Doemland says:

    At our house it was always Anna who could find anything lost; to this day I call her up and ask her, “Have you seen my……?” What has to suffice for me now is to visualize the last time I say said object and just let it float around without conscious thought until it magically turns up in my hands. Of course, if someone else moved it/put it away, this method is futile. Maybe the yellow shirt is with the odd socks, earrings and gloves in that special place where they go.

  6. Bahaha!! Patrick has to wear a uniform everyday, and if everything is not laid out when he gets up, he wakes me up to get his clothes….. Even if they are right there in the closet, arranged in groups. He is such a baby…. All men are, right?

  7. Poor Mr. B. He most definitely sounds like not only a first grader, but a teenager.

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