One of the things menopausal women do is find things. We find things, precious artifacts, for children who left home 2 decades ago. We find things for ourselves (our failing memories mean we increasingly forget where we put things). But, mostly, we find things for our husbands.
My husband is a fine man, a stalwart man, a faithful man. But he can't find ANYthing. Several nights ago, he called from the kitchen to me in the bedroom.
Husband: "Where did you put the knives?"
Me: "They're on the counter."
Husband: "No, they're not."
Husband: "They're not there." A note of indignation has now entered his voice.
Me: "They're on the counter. Look to the left." (They had been moved four inches to the left when a lady was helping me clean.)
Husband: "Oh." His voice assumes a defensive tone. "Well, they weren't where they usually are."
This was an easily solved problem. Others are not so easily put to rest.
Sorry. I've got to go. I hear my beloved from the bedroom. "Where did you HIDE my glasses?"