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Originally uploaded by laundrylessons.

She isn’t looking for the hidden immunity idol on Exile Island. And she didn’t misplace her keys, because she doesn’t drive. No, my teenaged daughter is in search of a missing clothing item d’jour. In the laundry room she disrupts neatly folded piles and rummages through baskets. The hunt starts with the same five words, “Mom have you seen my______?” Today’s escaped convict is a certain red t-shirt, “The only one that matches these shorts”. Yesterday it was a specific undergarment, “You know the one with the pink bow?”

My family is convinced that I know the whereabouts of all things lost and misplaced. Keys, shoes, coats, homework, half-finished cans of soda, last year’s tax forms. This superpower was probably bestowed upon me at the birth of my first child. I so much would have preferred the ability to shrink or fly or feel fully rested after three hours of sleep, but this power has served me well as a mom.

I shimmy my way to the laundry room and with deft precision my hand reaches into a basket and plucks out the missing t-shirt. I feel as if I’m the giant claw machine in the movie theater lobby, pulling the stuffed lizard out of the mountain of prizes. My daughter grabs the reward and beams as she carries her trophy upstairs.

The satisfaction of finding something is rewarding. At the beach we pull out jigsaw puzzles. Guess who finds the most pieces? Although I win daily games of hide-n-seek, I think my sleuthing skills are slipping. Superpowers could be like batteries with negative and positive charges. As we age, maybe our abilities flip. This would explain why with each passing year I seem to lose more nail files, pens and forms that need to be returned to school.

My superpower to locate trivial items may be fading. I used to feel it was my job to be the locator of the family. But with sweet irony, as my power fades my children’s eyes actually seems to be opening. No longer do they wander aimlessly looking for their shoes as I wait in the car. Instead they actually look – and they find. This passing of the power is refreshing. And if my battery really does flip to the negative, then soon I’ll command the skill perfect for weary moms.

While squirreled away in my room, I think I hear them calling, “Mom?! Mom?! Where are you?” But I’m lost.