The Saint of Lost Things

The Saint of Lost Things (aka my handsome Husband) has found my cell phone. He has become a Saint due to his many miraculous successful hunts for anything lost. It could be the back of my Sister's earring, an important tax-related receipt, or even my Mother's charm bracelet. Yes, it's the same charm bracelet that she gave to me a few months before she died, the one filled with gold charms that mark all the important events in her life and that I remember hearing tinkle ever so vividly whenever she was getting ready for a big night, dressed to the nines! Granted he IS the one who had hidden it, and then later denied that he hid it in his desk before a trip and persisted in gaslighting me for years about it. Oh the sheepish grin when he discovered it, and I wasn't sure if I should kiss him or hit him. Perhaps he is paying penance for that time by always finding the lost object?

It made me wonder about my memory, of course. Should I just get that new test for Alzheimer's now, and start the medication while I still have a chance of remembering to take it? I could always blame my mental lapses on:
1) Being a Nursing Mom with no Sleep in my 30's, and
2) Going Through Menopause in my 40's
3) Having the Occasional Senior Moment in my 50's
4 ) And now, it's either ADD or early-onset you know what in my 60's, right?

We have always thought that said Husband would have been medicated early and often if there was an ADD diagnosis when he was a kid. Our son, the Rock Star, was reluctantly thought to have it, like his Dad he was only happy doing lots of things at once and continually lost his cell phone, and his clothes (which I'd find his friends later wearing since they were left at friends' houses) and his towels at the beach, and I could go on and on. But medication is never the answer - please don't Tom Cruise me about this - I think a lot of little boys are just active with a capital "A." Giving all these young kids psychoactive drugs is a dangerous custom and over-prescribing for the sake of our big pharmaceutical industry, in my opinion. Plus, so long as the Rocker had his guitar, he could focus just fine. So I'm thinking that he may have gotten his forgetfulness from me, and not his Dad. Because after all, Dad keeps all his appointments on a Google calendar and rarely forgets anything! And now back to granting sainthood.

The Bride, as I mentioned in the last post, had the power to stop a plane from taking off when she was flying from Atlanta. All those Halloweens in the Wonder Woman outfit payed off! Then when she returned to her hospital, she was one of many residents who presided over a resuscitation of a patient who had died at a Lady Gaga concert. Imagine. No really, imagine we are in say the time of the Tudors, the Catholics are taking a beating and they need some new saints quick. Well, a young woman who can stop a big Airbus and make somebody rise from the dead? I'd nominate her!
http://www.cnn.com/2011/HEALTH/04/22/tennessee.gaga.heart.attack/index.html?hpt=T2