Last summer when we were camping in our RV, I told one of my daughters, who shall remain unidentified, to do the dishes.

I went to sit outside and read and relax in nature. I figured I packed the camper with the food and cooked it  — some vacation, eh? — one of the kids could wash the dishes. A few minutes later she poked her head out the door and said “I think we are out of dish detergent.”

I said to her, “Did you pull the bin out from under the sink and actually look inside of it or did you bend over from your waist and peer inside the dark cupboard?” She said, “Uh, I’ll look again.”

I didn’t hear from her again so I assumed she found the dish detergent.

Often when my children are looking for something and they ask me where it is, I will tell them. Off they go. Then they come back and say “Where did you say it was?” or better yet, “It’s not there!” Then I get up from whatever I am doing and go to the place I told them it was, with them following me, and pick it up and hand it to them. “Oh,” they exclaim, “There? I thought you meant the top shelf!”

Now why would I mean the top shelf when I said the bottom shelf?

Somehow, in the distance from where I’m located to the object they are looking for, their brains empty out.Sometimes they even forget they are looking for something because they’ll get distracted by a TV commercial or their sudden desire for a snack or something equally unimportant. Then I’ll be walking by the object later and wonder why it’s still sitting where I told them it was. They say “Oh yeah, I couldn’t find it.” Which is translated to mean, “I got tired of looking and knew you would come along.”

I should’ve seen it coming early on.

When my oldest daughter was a toddler, I would send her for a diaper. She would run full speed to her bedroom, at which point she not only forgot she was there for a diaper, she would forget I even sent her for something. Ten or so minutes later she’d come wandering out of her bedroom. I’d ask her where her clean diaper was and she’d look at me in a daze.

I have also noticed over the years my kids will hunt me down to ask me where something is. Their father could be sitting in the same room with them and they’ll bypass him and head for me no matter where I am. Dad never knows where anything is, but, mom always knows.

I believe they think it’s magic like I have some crystal ball. They need an item, mention it to mom, wait awhile and it magically appears via mom. As long as I know where their stuff is they really don’t have to keep that information in their heads. The worst part of them asking me where things are is that most of the time I do know where it is. I hate being the person who knows where all the random objects are that make up our lives.

The second worse part of knowing the location of all their stuff is that I can’t remember where my own stuff ended up. My brain is so full of the whereabouts of their trivial items that I can’t remember where I left my keys, water bottle, cell phone or shoes.

When I’ve lost something, I yell through the house if anyone knows where my item is and I immediately get, in two part harmony, “NO!” I know they haven’t thought it through, they answered too quickly. They just don’t want to get up and/or sort out the many words it may take to explain to me where my thing is.

I’ve often done the same thing myself — not taking the time to think through where their items may be. But then my mom brain kicks in and it just comes to me. Then it’s easier to just tell them where their item is than to watch them wander around in front of me with their frustrated sighs because I know they aren’t actually looking, they are just waiting for me to remember.

OK, maybe it is magic.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. She is committed to writing about the humor amidst the chaos of a family. You can read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com.