The iPod has been found.
Not that you necessarily knew it was missing. But it was. For two days.
Now, it is not.
Mostly because it's amazing what my kids are able to remember when there's something in it for them. While I was having panic attacks and straining my brain trying to remember where I "hid" the darn thing, the kids were blissfully unconcerned. Their interest was piqued, though, when their Dad offered them a $20 finder's fee. Suddenly, they were motivated to remember where they last seen it. Or used it, as the case may be.
Not that they're supposed to touch Mom's iPod. Oh, no. They have their own MP3 players they can leave laying around wherever they want. Mom's iPod is off-limits unless it's being used under strict adult supervision.
Unless Big Brother is left in charge, apparently. It seems they helped themselves to it while the hubby and I were off socializing Saturday night. While we were watching the UFC fight with the other wrestling parents, the boys were entertaining themselves with my iPod. And instead of returning it to where they found it, they left it on the top bunk in the youngest boy's bedroom.