She was forever losing her glasses.
She would put them down in some strange place, usually because she was doing several things at once. Then, she’d go hunting around the house, checking every room. When that failed she would ask him. He was really good at it. It never failed to impress her when, after asking her a few questions, he would go off hunting around and he would always come back with them. She often told her friends how good he was at finding things. Today was going to be no exception. It was a warm day and she came in from the garden through the laundry as usual. She’d put them down while she splashed cold water on her face. Hearing the phone ringing, she walked through, dabbing her face dry before picking it up.
He followed her in from the garden, saw the glasses and slipped them into his pocket.
He was reading the paper when she came in.
“Sorry, dear, can you help me, I’ve done it again?”
“What, glasses?”
She nodded. “I put them down in the laundry, next to the sink, I’m sure I did. I’ve looked all over.”
“How long have they been missing?”
“Only a few minutes. I’m sorry.”
“That’s OK.” He got up and began looking around, going from room to room. He finally ended up back at the laundry, finding them on a shelf tucked in next to a packet of soap powder. He called out. “In here!”
She came in and looked at them in amazement. She went to say something.
He said, “It’s all right, dear, not to worry. These things happen.”
She took them gratefully, saying, “It’s awful when you think about it, how often I do this.” She gave him a loving look. “And it’s amazing how good you are at finding them.”
“Well, there you go,” he said, “are we talking perfect harmony here, or what?”
Of course, he knew that if he did it more than once a fortnight or so… she’d get suspicious.