No kidding.
My mom got me a good silverware service for 12 about 20 years ago. Two husbands, many moves, and two additional children later she STILL asks me when she comes to the house, "where is all the silverware I bought you?"

???

I DON'T KNOW, MOM! It's been 20 flipping years, and I think most of it actually ended up at your house! Stop asking! I don't know where my old saddleblankets go, either. Nor have I kept track of all my underwear. Truth be told, when I can't find it, I JUST BUY NEW UNDERWEAR. Then when I find the old ones, I toss them. Is that a crime? I don't feel like exerting the energy required to keep track of every piece of a 72-piece plus serving set silverware service over 20 years and heavens knows how many moves.

And while we're at it, I agree...whoever is going into my washing machine, where I carefully put PAIRS of dirty socks, and takes single socks (which are never seen again, anywhere) should be put to the rack.

__________________
Poor Spot! He was tired of being thought of as stupid. "I'm gonna join Mensa," he said to myself, "and then I'll be legally permitted to wear the society's insignia--a tattoo of a little map pin pushed into my flesh--and then everyone'll know that I'm not dumb at all!"
Spot Joins Mensa
by James "Kibo" Parry