Months ago we lost the remote control for the television. Who doesn’t do that, who owns a television, right? It falls between the couch cushions. It gets left on the table. It gets stashed in a drawer. It happens. Usually, however, it shows up at some point.
But ours never showed up. We each took turns looking. Those couch cushions got lifted up too many times. The couch got moved so we could look beneath it. The drawer, where we so tidily and responsibly kept the remote, was turned upside down more than once. We looked and looked until we exhausted places to look. It just was nowhere to be found.
I held out for months, then did some research into getting a replacement. I mean, your old television you could get by without a remote. You got up and changed the channel or the volume and you could at least feel that you were not being lazy. But this remote had so many features that trying to adjust some things was a challenge, at the least. Enter a Netflix password without that remote? I guess we skip the movie.
So finally I broke down and ordered a new remote. It was easy to find. There were multiple options on Amazon and elsewhere. When it arrived I slid in some batteries, pointed it at the television and boom! Success. Our easy life was back.
And we lived with that new remote for months. It worked great. No complaints. It was now what we had, even if it looked different than the old one. The old one was forgotten, slipping into the past, as things do. Then Easter came.
My wife pulled the Easter baskets from up-up stairs, as we call the semi-finished third floor of the house. She sorted through the various Easter decorations. She pulled the fake grass from one of those baskets and “No way!” there was the remote. How it got into one of the Easter baskets, fully covered in that fake grass crap, we still cannot figure, but we would not have found it. There is just no way we would have looked there.
So now we have two television remotes. We can choose the one we want. How First World is that? The Easter baskets are again tucked away. In films, those who make them often now hide what they call “Easter eggs:” small jokes or references that can spotted in the background. We had our own Easter egg this year. And it came before Easter, as if risen from the grave. Fitting, no?