Oh Where Is My Squirt Bottle?

I used to clean house for a woman who had a bunch of kids, which she homeschooled, so they were usually there when I came to clean the house. And on more than one occasion they watched the Veggietales movie when I was there, and I saw parts of it as I moved in and out of the various rooms. I was already somewhat familiar with this song, because I had heard other children singing it on occasion. They let me borrow the tape. There were two songs we particularly liked "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything" and this song about the missing hairbrush which we often sing to each other when we have lost something.

I have a small green squirt bottle that serves various function depending on what I am doing and where I am when I am doing it.

In the summer when the window is open where I sit working away at my job, I keep the squirt bottle handy to aim a stream of water through the screen at the squirrels that show up to gobble down the sunflower seeds. It doesn't really stop them, but I like scaring them and watching them leap out of the way of the water.

Once it get too cold for the back door to stand partly open, then the cat will start to bother me. The typical scenario is: she is outside and wants in, so she leaps up on the bird feeder to meow at me and I get up to let her in. Then about 5 minutes after she comes in, she wants out, and then she leaps up by my computer and sits by the window and  looks out. Then she will leap from there onto the printers and put her little kitty paws on certain buttons that make the printers go bezerk. Where was I. Oh yes. I occasionally squirt her with the water to make her leave me alone.

Then, when I am baking bread, I will put fresh warm water in the bottle, turn the nozzle to mist, and put a thin film of water on top of the dough. That makes a nice chewy crust that the LOML likes. The last time I used the squirt bottle, I left it sitting on the ledge in the kitchen, and it was perfectly happy to be sitting there, but the LOML decided it was in the way and he wanted it put up someplace. I argued with him about it for a bit but decided that was not a battle I really wanted to fight. So he said "I"ll put it here...."

So this afternoon when I went to mist the top of the buns I was making, I could not find the spray bottle. I asked him where it was and he couldn't remember where he put it either, but "I know it is in a logical place," he said. A logical place would be in the cupboard in the kitchen where I keep the white flour, or in the pantry where I store the baking pans and the whole wheat flour . It was in neither place. So we commenced the great Squirt Bottle hunt. And we found it, finally, in a totally illogical place -- in the cupboard where I keep ingredients that I never ever use when I make bread.