Houdini's Disappearing Pants

Harry Houdini was a great magician. Performing all kinds of magic tricks, he could make all kinds of things appear out of nowhere. He could make a rabbit appear out of somebody’s hat. The Ace of Hearts would appear amazingly in the pocket of his coat. Or he could make a bird appear fluttering frantically right out of thin air.

Every mom knows that Houdini wasn’t unique in his magical abilities. When my daughter is scrambling frantically about for where she left her clarinet, I magically go look in the spot where it should be and magically make it appear. When my son is insisting that I have not washed his favorite, navy blue school shirt, I patiently ask him if he has looked in his closet. I then get that condescending look that only irate teenagers can give to parents that seem to be asking the world’s most stupid question. Of course, he has looked in his closet.

So I then go on to look in my ironing pile for the disappearing shirt. Then in the dryer. Then I dump out the bucket of dirty clothes to see if, just perhaps, when washing 90 loads of clothes each day, I happened to miss washing his favorite blue shirt for the last seven days. Then as he is frantically pulling at his hair, and pointing at the clock, and wailing that I have lost his blue shirt, his brother must have stolen it, I got it mixed up in the Goodwill bag, I patiently walk up to his room and look in his closet. And....Abracadabra!!!! It magically appears.

Well, it must be magic, because he insisted it wasn’t there.

A few weeks ago we had a family event where my son needed a new suit. Leaving the shopping to my husband while I handled things with the family, they naturally went to the store and paid no attention to price. Men tend to do that. He came home with a really nice new jacket with a matching, dapper, new pair of pants. After wearing them for a few hours, I found them a few days later crumpled up in his room.

Realizing that many men not only buy pants not on sale, but also leave them crumpled on the floor, I patiently picked them up and patiently had them cleaned. And then I hung them back in his closet. A few days later he had to wear them again. I told my son to take very good care of them, I just had them cleaned and they would be excellent pants to wear to graduation in a few days.

But then the pants disappeared. Almost as if by magic. Wanting to get them clean and pressed for the upcoming big day, I began to search around for the magically disappearing pair of pants. I searched high and I searched low, and no pants could be found. So I asked my son to please find them.

A few days went by. I asked him again. I got a huff and a puff, and a "Mom, quit nagging."
More days went by. I asked him again. This time with a bit more volume. And a bit more nagging. And a threat that we were running out of time. And a reminder that they had cost too much money. And another reminder that they had cost so much to be cleaned. And then I nagged some more.

Finally, after that last and best nag, my son went to retrieve the pants. Grumbling the whole time, because he knew just where they were. But then he searched in his room. He searched in his car. He searched in the garage, in the driveway, in the pool. He searched in the attic, and the back yard, and the mailbox. He couldn’t seem to find his pants.

Crossing my arms I asked where did he last see them. He told me in the garage. He knew they were there. His brother must have taken them. His brother must have lost his own pants, so was now wearing his.

Knowing that his brother was not wearing the pants, I searched couch cushions and under beds and behind doors. I made him call his friends and their friends and their friends, but still no pants were to be found.

Finally, I realized, that not only would be the one wearing nothing but boxers on that Saturday afternoon. But, just like Houdini couldn’t perform that one final trick, this magician of a mom would never find that one disappearing pair of pants.