Watch the Hand

As I age I'm noticing that I'm having more trouble keeping track of my things: glasses, keys, cellphone and other sundry items that often times seem to evaporate into thin air. We live in a world ruled by the laws of physics, so stuff doesn't just disappear. There can be only one explanation for my things going missing: Tom.

That's right, as I age I'm noticing that I'm having more trouble with Tom losing my things. Well, it can't be me. I have this rule called "Watch the Hand" that virtually makes it impossible for me to misplace anything. This is how the rule works:  Before you lay your glasses down, follow your hand closely so you know where's its going. Watch it. Watch it. Getting close now. The glasses are down! The glasses are down! Now make a mental note: "I have just put my glasses in the refrigerator." 

The only thing I find wrong with my never-lose-anything rule is Tom. I can't get him to follow his hand when his hand is holding my stuff. And because of that I'm always looking for lost things. Things gone missing at the hand of someone else. Someone who shares my humble abode. An adobe that is too humble to speak up and tell me where Tom put my damn glasses.

I know it's Tom who lost them. He's the only other person living in the abode with me. So, therefore, that makes him the guilty party. Has to be him. Can be no one else.

What did you do with my glasses, Tom?

I didn't touch your glasses, Carol Louise.

You are the only other person living in this house. It had to be you. Think! Think! Where did you put them?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Tom, look at me! Look at me! I need you to focus. Where are my glasses?

On top of your head.

Oh.

Didn't you watch your hand put them there?