Getting back into the (scrapbooking) closet.

Picture this: You're having an 'Eureka moment' where you have a clear-as-bell inspiration for a new layout, and all day you've been itching - positively itching - to get started on it. You have to wait until the kids are asleep (because attempts through the day to pull your scrapbooking gear out while they're awake have crashed and burned) but finally, the moment comes where the last wee munchkin has tottled off to sleep, and you have the whole night stretched out before you with nothing on the agenda but putting that layout together...

But the key to your scrapbooking closet has vanished into thin air.

*facepalm*

I have spent the entire night searching the house. I've searched locations where the key couldn't possibly be (the washing machine, the jeans I haven't even worn in the past week, beneath the back steps, behind the toilet...) and I've returned to the same locations over and over just in case the key suddenly materialises in the most obvious place. It is nowhere. I'm beginning to wonder if it was in the kangaroo pocket of my hoodie when we went to the park today, and fell out on the rugby field when I was having a race with Jarrod to determine who would make coffees for the rest of the night.

I'm having withdrawals. I'm drowning. I'm slowly but surely losing my mind.

And this is precisely why we need a bigger house.

If we had a bigger house, I'd be able to dedicate an entire room to my scrapbooking supplies, rather than a wooden closet. And then I wouldn't need to worry about a stupid ornate little key with a bright blue keyring that you just can't miss!! Arrrrrghhhh!!

// end rant.

EDITED TO ADD: The key was found in the morning, when Bree revealed she had put it in Indie's back pocket. And yes, there it was, in the washing machine, in the bum pocket of his pants!