Dang fool remote

Yesterday morning I lost the remote control. I tore up my room looking for it. No remote. I tore up my grandmother’s room, the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen. Still no remote. Not even in the fridge.

That made me pretty mad. Our television is really, really old, and it’s not designed for cable. To get cable channels, you have to type them in on the number pad of the remote control. If you punch the channel up and down buttons on the TV, you just get network channels.

We spent the whole day out of the house, so I didn’t think much about it until last night. There was a program I really wanted to watch, so I decided to search for the remote one last time. The last time I’d had it was in bed when I woke up, so I figured it must be in the sheets somewhere. I stripped off the quilt, shook it out, and threw it in the floor. Then I did the same with the blanket, then with the sheet. Still no remote. I shook out the pillows and my teddy bear – still no remote. It wasn’t underneath or behind the bed, either. So I made the bed back up, one layer at a time, and put the pillows and the bear back on top. Then I changed into my pajamas, turned out the light and crawled into bed.

The pillows were uncomfortable, so I reached under them to pull them forward. And what do you know…

…out came the remote.

I swear the remote fairy must have stuck it there.