On Saturday MrM and I had an important appointment where we had to hand over a lot of money.
I was running late and somehow managed to forget my cheque book, rendering our meeting useless.
"Never mind," said the chap cheerfully. "Why don't you bring your cheque book tomorrow?"
I got told off all the way home. So as soon as I got home, I put the cheque book next to the front door.
But the next morning, the cheque book was nowhere to be seen. Time was ticking by, so I put the washing machine on and turned the house upside down.
I emptied out cupboards, my desk, my folders, under the bed and even the outside storage space. Nothing.
The washing machine came to the end of its cycle and I put the washing out. Out tumbled our clothes, covered in what looked like the remains of a tissue. Except there was also a piece of paper from which the words "one thousand pounds" could just be made out.
Truth be told, I'm not sure if the cheque book found its way into the washing machine thanks to my efforts or the McBaby, but we still made our big purchase. A couple of years ago, I thought I'd lost my cheque book, ordered a new one and then the first one turned up, so I actually had two. It pays to be disorganised.