Lost and lost-er…

For Christmas, I crocheted a “cache-cou” for K.  A cache-cou is, quite literally, something that hides your neck from the bitter cold of winter. You might call it a cowl, except his wasn’t very drapy at all. Really, it was more like the neck of a turtleneck sweater without the sweater.

He was quite thrilled with it. The darkest gray, almost black, and thick as anything, and very soft, with 2 large buttons he chose from the stash himself. He wore it to school every day for a week or two…

…and then he lost it.

“It’s probably not lost,” I told him in that confident way mamas everywhere can announce things like “it’s just a little bobo” or “the nine thousand, four hundred and twenty-two pages of math homework you have to do tonight won’t take all that long if you just buckle down and do them.”

I told him to look in his locker really carefully.  To check the shelf up top where it might have gotten shoved to the back, and to look under the pile of stuff that inevitably winds up swimming at the bottom like a bizarre ocean of papers and mittens with an old sock for a whale and a shoe for a boat.

The next day, I told him to look in the lost and found, and to ask his classmates if anyone had seen it.

He says he did both.

About once a week for the next couple of weeks (otherwise known as every time it got cold out), I told him to do it all again. He did, every time I reminded him, and would inevitably come home insisting it was really, really lost.

“It’s not lost-lost,” I told him. “We just don’t know where it is at the moment. But it has to be somewhere.” (My logic is astounding, isn’t it?).

Yesterday was the last day of school before March Break.  I reminded him as he left to have a good look through the lost and found for anything that might be his, kissed the top of his head, and shooed him out the door before he missed his bus.

About an hour later, my emailed dinged. The school’s monthly newsletter was out. In it, there was a reminder to have your kids look through the lost and found as everything would be donated to charity March 7th.

No problem, I thought. I reminded him to look for stuff.

And then I remembered the cache-cou and suddenly this idea of March 7th felt a whole lot more final. When K came home from school without the cache-cou last night, I had to face facts. The cache-cou wasn’t just lost… it was lost-er.

I imagine somewhere in the city, someone is even at this very minute walking around with a lovely charcoal grey turtleneck sweater without the sweater thinking how lovely it was to find such a thing just lying on the ground. They probably don’t know it was handmade.  They probably don’t know it was well anticipated and well loved. But they know it’s warm and cozy and keeps their neck hidden from the bitter wind.

I hope, whoever you are, that you are warm and toasty. As for K, well, it looks like this mama is going to be making him another one just in time for spring.

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