Horace's memory issues lead us astray at times; twice recently with his passport.
Clarissa started organising her passport last year for the Summer Camp program (which I should say is no longer on the cards for 2009), and we needed Horace's passport as part of proving her entitlement to Australian citizenship.
The envelope Horace's passport is inside in his drawer.
Anyway we found it after Horace searching for it over a couple of days and I asked him to leave it with me so we'd know where it was. He preferred not to, and I didn't press because it's his passport, but now we've paid for our tickets, Horace needs a visa in his passport to get into the US and we couldn't find his passport.
I arrived home last night to Horace's papers all over the bed and the floor, again, and Horace hunched over it all with a pain in his hip. He'd been sorting and resorting everything to find it, but with no luck.
While he went to get dinner organised, I started looking and came to the same conclusion. The passport was nowhere to be found, but because I'm obsessive and can't rest until I find something I started looking in other places ... which was Horace's plan for the next day.
I was luck and found it in the first place I looked ... in his sock drawer! Lucky ...
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