Why am I here?

I opened the fridge to get the washing out yesterday. It's not the first time, I did once put the iron in the fridge, shut the door and turn away before I realised what I'd done.

We all have those infuriating moments when, having climbed the stairs and gone into the bed/bath room, we've had to go back to the ground level to try and trigger the initial prompt. 'Why am I here?' is a common refrain heard in this household, and sadly it's not a philisophical poser.

I've left my purse on top of the car, driven off, reached the shop, and 'ping', like some cartoon bubble the picture of the afore-mentioned appeared before me. Luckily, that time, I retraced my path and found the purse in the middle of the A38, some contents scattered across the road. A busy road, and one that parents admonish their children for walking too close to. This time, I just held the traffic up with an assurance I didn't feel (my hand and many nods and mouthed thanks), ran into the road and scooped up the bits and pieces. My loyalty card for a well known chemists still has a sharp crease down its length and I've given up trying to explain why.

I left the elderly dog, in her youth, at a friend's house and had absolutely no idea that I'd done so until a 'phone call some time later. Perhaps I was subconsciously enjoying the 'one less thing to do' ease of dealing only with the off-spring when I returned. The friend concerned had wondered when I might turn back on my journey home, or whether the penny would drop once I had got everyone out of the car. Not a clue.

At least it wasn't a child. Having dropped the eldest children at school one morning, I left the premises talking to two other parents and suddenly realised that not all was well. Keys were in my hand, fine on that front. Then, "Oh, no, I've forgotten ...(toddler)..." A quick glance to the road to check,  back behind me. No, nobody around. There was silence from my companions. As I turned to begin my run back into the playground, one cleared her throat and said, "You're holding her hand, she's here!" 

I have researched and produced conferences and seminars for handfuls of people and thousands; understood relatively complicated technological advances and strategies for dealing with their implementation, can metamorphose hundreds of 'phone calls and hours of reading into one salient point; but I can't find my child at the end of my arm - I am clearly beyond the half-way point in life's journey!