A couple years ago, I developed runner’s knee in both knees. Thus, I purchased wraparound knee braces. The knees eventually healed, and I stored the braces in an undisclosed area in my house.

By undisclosed, I mean undisclosed to my memory.

Fast-forward to this week, when one of the young runners in my family developed runner’s knee. As a kind and generous person, I offered to lend her my knee braces.

There was only one problem. I couldn’t find them.

I had a vague recollection of finding the knee braces one day whilst performing an activity that could be described as cleaning. On that day, I said to myself, “Self, what the heck are these things?” Then everything – the RICE, the limping, the pain – flooded back to my memory.

But when I needed to locate the braces this weekend, I couldn’t remember where I had seen them. I might have grown up on an estate, but I don’t live in a mansion. There are only so many places they could have been. I checked the obvious locations – my underwear drawer, my sweater drawer, my sock drawer – but I came up empty.

I also pulled out the washer and drawer and looked behind them and ran a yardstick under the appliances. I performed the latter task as that little voice in my head asked, “Dummy, explain to me how two knee braces, not one, but two, flattened themselves and scooted under the washer and/or dryer?”

I had no answer, of course, but I did have a handful of cat hair and dust for my efforts.

Next, I checked the closets…multiple times. I even checked the closet that contains my holiday decorations. I also looked through papers that I have needed to file and/or discard for a year. All that did was remind me that I need to file and/or discard that mess.

After I checked the closet that houses my clothes – for the fourth time – and the cabinets that hold my cleaning supplies – for the third time — I decided to go through the house on a room-by-room basis.

So, I started with my bedroom. I looked through every drawer (again), the closet (again), and the laundry basket. (Yes, it was in my room…for reasons.)

Then, I moved onto the master bath, which I hadn’t searched, because putting knee braces in a bathroom cabinet would have made too much sense. Especially when you could toss them into a closet with Christmas cards or underneath the washer and/or dryer.

Yeah, they were in the bathroom cabinet.  

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.