This writing is for all the husband's out there who have become brothers through the frustration of not being able to find things where they last put them.

She stands with hands on hips,
surveying the area through tightly closed lips.

Her Eagle Eyes scanning for anything left to expose;
intent on cramming it behind a door or in a drawer that will tightly close.

Her theory: If you can see it, in hiding it goes.

Oh Woe!, to anyone who would leave it out.
Her ire they will incur, there is little doubt.

"Hey!, where is my Screwdriving Tool?"
a question asked by a certain fool.

"Where else?", comes the reply, "In a drawer to be unseen by the naked eye."

I should have known, there is no doubt.
But dang!, what drawer could she be talking about?"

Draw me a map, becomes my constant plea,
for behind doors and in drawers, I cannot see.

Oh never mind it is plain to me
that on deaf ears I have wasted my plea.

Adamant she remains to her espouse; the woman I love.

"The Woman of the House".