THREE PAIRS OF TWEEZERS

No, I don't tweeze in the car.  And never in Starbucks' restroom (although the light is excellent there.) So where do tweezers escape to?

I brought a pair with me in my suitcase, but moving was such a trauma that I just couldn't find them.  No problem, I got a ride to the drugstore and got a pair that were a little more visible.  The little basket I take to the bathroom was kinda full, and so were the transparent pockets in the closet where I hang my clothes, but I found a place for the tweezers.  A place I never found again.

It was always hard to see brow hairs in the bathroom here, so I had finally figured out a way to pile up some books to hold my magnifying mirror by the window.  Then all I needed were tweezers.  Sherlock was no help.  I have an extra basket for some grooming stuff  I rarely use.  I emptied it three times and searched the contents.  No tweezers.  I looked in a plastic  box that holds night-time medicine, nail files, whatever I might need at night.  No luck.  It appeared that I would soon have more tweezers than eyelashes.

So I bit the bullet, so to speak, and bought yet another pair.  They can't defeat me!  I put a red thread through the joint in the handles.  This is much harder than threading a needle.  It didn't make the tweezers easier to find, and the thread gets in your eye.

Then one day I went looking for the shoe polish in the closet where all the shelves are.  That one has transparent pockets on the door, too.  There they were, miles from any other face product--both earlier sets of tweezers.

I need a new category for where stuff goes.  No, I need a sidecar on the seriously loaded basket of my grooming tools.  Or a nap.  Before I try to see my eyebrows, and try to avoid the John L Lewis brow, which is definitely not the Red Carpet look right now.