I Spy For Grownups

Don’t buy me jewelry. Nope. It’s very kind of you to think of me, but I’ll just lose it. Quickly. Then not notice I’ve lost it until much later, when I won’t have the first clue where to go looking for it.

I had one of those witching hour epiphanies last night in which I received a clear vision of this lovely little necklace only gifted to me on my last birthday, which I don’t recall seeing now for a good two months.

Where might that be, I mused upon rising, before frantically searching my bedroom like a spastic remorseful dumbhead for the darn thing. I really liked that necklace.

And yet, no luck, peanut.

Instead I found a whole lot of other crap. Which I now offer to you in the form of a little game I like to think of as “I Spy for Grownups.”

See how many of these items, found instead of my necklace this morning in my bedroom, you can locate in the photo:


A button that reads “I (heart) Oregon Beer”

A human tooth in a plastic Solo cup (Tooth Fairy – what the heck, lady? I thought the deal was you removed these things from the premises.)

A note, which reads: Dear Tooth Fairy, I want something different than money. Plese? Form Libby. (apparently her answer was no)

An origami frog made from a McMenamins table tent

A baby photo of myself, hitching my dress up (some things never change)

A circus performer (albeit, small and plastic)

Alaska Airlines wings

A piece of chewed gum (I wish I was kidding about this one)

A drawing and note, which reads: “This is me. This is my mom. I love my mom.” (love you too, baby)

The head of a small fox

Chinese balls that chime

A book called “Blessed Promises from Scripture” (This mysterious item is most definitely not mine)

A wooden boar, hand-sewn doll pants, a broken baby comb

A money clip depicting a sailing ship (anyone know the significance of the Lady Washington?)

An open, partially used pink lip gloss

A nail, a bobby pin, a birthday candle, a package of silica gel

A bracelet I hate and somehow still have after 12 years


This last bit especially is confounding. God, is there a meaning in this? Perhaps I could find it in your book of scripture? What, you say? I am careless with what I love and yet cling to what doesn’t serve me?

I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Okay, y’all. Maybe do buy me jewelry, because I seem to need a constant supply. Just make it cheap, okay? And don’t ask me about it if you haven’t seen it on my person in awhile.

© Copyright Kim Cooper Findling: Oregon-based Writer & Author - Designed by Pexeto