When things go missing

There is nothing that fills me more with murderous rage than having my things taken. I think lots of people are the same. 

I’m not talking about the spate of ute or stock thefts, but the acts of misplacement levied on us by our spouses, siblings, children and staff. 

It’s the tools, brooms, batteries, computer mouses, phone charges, vehicles, shovels, rakes and trailers that were not left where you left them. It’s the things that were used and not returned. 

For those that are time poor and pride themselves on self organisation it is a relationship killer. 

What can you do about it?

Passive agressive strategies include 

– Washing down the entire verandah with carted house water because the straw broom ended up in the shearing shed again.

– Everytime something goes missing, buy a new one. Is it a waste of money? Yes. Does the over capitalisation in small items go any where near the overcapitalisation elsewhere on farm? No. Does doing this for 20 years change anything? Yes – the amount of shovels you have. 
– Lying when anyone asks “do you have” or “can I take”
– Hide stuff
– Make sure your power tool batteries are always flat. 

Other more useful strategies

– Buying a different brand of powertools for yourself, Is it efficient? – no, does it make it clearer to whom these things belong? sometimes. Ozito stuff never goes missing. 
– Using a paint pen to mark your tools in so they are easily identified
– If you are going to buy the same brand of powertools,  buy the low amp batteries. They might be sufficient for your humble needs, and less attractive to others. 
– Tie things down – I have just chained up a shifter to the house near the gas bottles. 
– Buy steak knives with red or fluro handles. Everyone loves a good vitranox steak knife. They can be used for cutting bailing twine, as flat head screwdriver, to cut sticks for fairy gardens and to carve spears. The uses are endless, so they are always going missing. The black ones disappear as soon as they leave the house, the brightly coloured ones do eventually pop up in the shed, cubby or chook pen.  

The communications and physcology specialists will talk to you about setting firm boundaries and following up non compliance with serious conversations using ” I ” statements, like “I felt undervalued when you take the broom I sweep the kitchen floor with to sweep off old mate’s crutching trailer” . Now if you seriously commit to this approach consistenly it works, and usually works even better when you employ rather than marry or give birth to the person. But 20 years in to marrige and 17 years into motherhood it’s been lots of wobbly boundaries and “me” statements with little to no change. 

So where modern physcology and communication fails, we can only turn to religion for guidance. Here I find an interdenominational approach works well. Sometimes I channel the Buddist Zen, othertimes I lean heavily on Christian forgiveness. 

However as I age the calming influence of estrogen is leaving my body. I realise the only solution is to commence a holy war and take to my tool stealing enemies with the small axe I use to chop the kindling. 

But it’s not where I left it either. 

Open to advice on this one.