The Case of Missing Business Cards
Chapter 1: Wednesday
Last Wednesday afternoon as I furiously scrambled around to get ready for the Scout parent meeting I was holding that night, I had the great idea to give all of the parents in attendance one of the personal business cards that I had been advised to make.
Let me back up a few weeks to the LDS Employment Career Workshop that I attended. At that workshop, we were urged to get business cards that were simply personal: no current business, no side job. Just us. So I ordered a box. I got one box of cards that were just me: my name, phone number, how to find me on LinkedIn, Twitter, Facebook, Google+, my website. Me. I then waited two weeks for them to arrive in the mail. (Thank you, VistaPrint for great prices and slow shipping.)
When the cards arrived, I excitedly put a handful into my iPad folio, then closed the box. These personal cards accompanied another two boxes of cards that I had made for my new podcast. The podcast cards had been properly stored in my basement office. The personal cards were in for a more exciting journey.
Back now to last Wednesday. I grabbed the five cards that I had in my folio pocket, then set out to get a few more. This began three days of searching and frustration. It was a good thing that I already had the meeting planned out when I started looking because I turned the house upside down during the next 40 minutes. I searched my bedroom, closet; I hunted through the family room and kitchen, including the two drawers that are assigned to me to keep my quick grab stuff. I looked through the dining room and “home teacher” room. Then it was out to the garage. I even went through the truck. No cards. So, I went back through my quick grab locations, and again around the sofa where I (sloppily, I know) often drop my bags when I get home. Nothing, and now it was time for the meeting.
I got through the meeting and returned home. At that point I again scoured everyplace that I had looked previously, hoping that I had missed something. The one thing that I did know was that the kids had not found the box, because then there would have been 245 business cards strewn around the house, and hopefully a box at one end of the trail of detrius.
Chapter 2: Thursday
Thursday morning dawned bright and cold. I got up early and made another sweep of the house in search of the missing cards. That morning I spotted two boxes in the basement, only to realize that they each contained the cards for the podcast. At least I knew that I could spot the right style of box. I went to work, hoping that I had — somehow — not brought the whole box home, but only the few cards stuffed into my folio. When I arrived after an uneventful commute, I searched my office. It didn’t take long as there are only four drawers and two storage cubbies where I could put things. The business cards still eluded me after my exhaustive search of my workplace. Wherever could they be?
At the end of ht workday, I returned home, asking my wife, holding my hands in a roughly box-like shape, “Have you seen a box about this big?” Her response was quick and painful in the negative. I was still on the hunt. Through the course of the night I again retraced my steps through all of the areas where I would have, or even could have, hidden a box of business cards for safe keeping. I even dug deeper into storage spaces and shelves that I have never used since we moved into the house. I retired for the night a beaten man, still without any personally identifying cards.
Chapter 3: Friday
The phrase, “Have you seen a box about this big?” became my entry and exit line for every scene that I played at my house. I asked my wife at breakfast, whenever I called on the phone. It was my all consuming mission: to find the business cards. Around noon on Friday, I resigned myself to the possibility that the cards may have been thrown out with some trash and that I may have to order new ones. I found the order and considered the price. However, I thought that I would wait for one more sweep of the house that night before placing the order, and closed the browser window, unsatisfied.
After running a few errands on my way home, I stepped through the door with my now hauntingly familiar query for my wife, “Have you seen a box about this big?” Her reply this time was different, and cryptic; she replied, “Did you see my text?” I was taken aback, and repeated my query, to the same reply. At this point, I pulled my phone from my breast pocket and searched for a text from Nicole.
Her response echoed the words spoken by Nephi she he went the third time to claim the Plates of Brass from Laban, “And I was aled by the Spirit, not bknowing beforehand the things which I should do.” (Book of Mormon, 1 Nephi 4:6) And the image that accompanied the words was one of the cards! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
With this great burden lifted, I asked Nicole where she had found the cards. She replied that she had been told by the Holy Spirit to got to the garage. Her thought was that I had gone through the garage already (multiple times). However, she was prompted to look in a box of first aid supplies that I had prepared for Scouts a week prior. There she saw a blue box that looked like a box of bandages, but on closer inspection was the box of missing business cards.
I gave her a big hug and kiss, and thanked her for solving this mystery for me. Her reply was that now she hoped that I could pay attention to her and the kids rather than obsession of the silly cards.
My first act with this new knowledge was to post this wonderful victory on Facebook.
And so it ended. The box of business cards now rests in its proper place in my basement office, aside the podcast cards.
So now, when my wife asks if I’ve seen anything, I simply reply, “No, but you’re talking to the guy who lost a box of business cards.”