Cue The Twilight Zone Music

People are divided into two parts: some of them look for and cannot find anything, others find but are not satisfied. ~Mihai Eminescu, Romanian poet (translated by Oana Platon)

Have you ever had something so unexpected happen that all you can do is accept it for what it is and carry on?

Over the weekend, I reached into my car for my glasses so I could drive Mom to church in her car.

Suddenly, I noticed something unusual on my driver’s seat.

A button.

Just sitting there, minding its own business, waiting to be discovered.

Okay, you say. What’s odd about that?

Simply that I haven’t lost any buttons recently. And nobody drives my car but me.

Well, I scooped it up and went inside to see which pocket flap on my slacks was missing a button. And, after going through all my jeans and capris, I discovered every button was present and accounted for.

How odd, I thought, before setting the button aside. Because you know that as soon as you toss something away, you’ll find a need for it, right?

Later that evening, I made another check, figuring I must have overlooked something.


On a whim, I pulled out my shorts and went through them, too.

Bingo! There was a pair missing a button…a button that was an exact match to the one I’d found in my car.

Here’s where this really gets weird — it hasn’t been warm enough this season to have worn shorts.

I must’ve lost that button last summer, yet I’ve driven my car nearly every single day since then, and it never came to light until Saturday.

Creepy, huh?

23 thoughts on “Cue The Twilight Zone Music

  1. Isn’t it funny, how these things happen? I “lost” a book last year, and spent weeks trying to find it, since it was out of print, and I really didn’t want to lose it. I knew I hadn’t loaned it, and it was too big to have been thrown away. Finally, I gave up. Months later, I found it — on the bookshelf, right where it belonged. I swear it wasn’t there any of the dozen times I looked. There are mysteries, indeed.

    • Linda, I’m ecstatic to learn I’m not the only one things like this happen to! They really throw me for a loop — especially when my mind is otherwise occupied and they spring up as if by magic. I’m glad your book found its way back home — was it, by any chance, a mystery novel?!!

      • No, it was John Ciardi’s “How Does A Poem Mean?” It’s a wonderful book — a good introduction to poetry, and with a great introduction that shows why “WHAT does this poem mean?” is the wrong question.

        • I haven’t read that one, but perhaps I should. After all, I know little about what the poems I read mean, but I do enjoy the experience reading them.

    • Ghost button? Hey, Professor, I like that! Now, if I can just find the ghost who’s willing and able to sew the dadblame thing back on!!

    • *widens eyes* You think?? Well, okay, I’ve never thrown a party for a button, but I guess it’s possible. I suppose the first step is reuniting it with the shorts pocket from which it became loose. Then, maybe busting out some celebratory champagne — yeah, that sounds good to me. Thanks for the suggestion!

    • Actually, Dallas has been in my car…just not in the driver’s seat. And usually, for me at least, once a button rips off, it’s gone. Guess you can tell by this story that I’m NOT one of those obsessive car-vacuuming people!!

  2. Good for you finding where it belongs. Now, I probably would have tossed it in a drawer or somewhere and later discovered I was missing a button on some clothing and had no idea where I’d put it!

    • See? That’s what used to happen to me, too, Suzi. Then, I forced myself to get organized and find a “proper” place for stuff that turns up unexpectedly. You don’t even want to think about my loose button drawer, ha!

  3. Debbie, I love how you titled this post! So clever! And I could actually hear the Twilight Zone music playing!

    Perhaps when the button fell off your shorts last summer, it got lodged in the crack of the seat where the back rest meets the seat and then eventually (from sitting in the seat) popped out and that’s how you spotted it.

    Yet, I have to agree with you, very creepy!

    Hope you’re having a super week, my friend!

    • Ron, I suspect something like that happened. Still, I just find it odd that it managed to stay hidden for months on end and chose that particular Saturday to reveal itself!

      Have a merry week, my friend (and watch out for all that rain that’s headed your way!) xo

  4. I don’t find this unusual at all. I am always finding things long after they were lost. I once found my engagement ring caught door of a closet in our cabin 2 years after it mysteriously disappeared.

    • Your engagement ring?? Oh, Pat, you must have been frantic! Normally, when I lose something, I say a quick prayer to St. Anthony, and he helps me find it. This poor button was lost so long ago, I barely remember losing it! Glad mysterious turning-ups happen to others, too, though.

  5. I’m thinking of a Train song lyric as I’m reading this, “My possessions are causing me suspicion but there’s no proof.” So often I’m looking for something (most often in my purse) and it’s not there. I can empty said purse and it’s not there. Later, when I’m not looking for it – it (be it a note, a certain lipstick, a pack of mints, etc.) pops up in almost a taunting way. Sometimes when things appear like your button – I try to stay open to a sign from the universe. But this button? Hmmmm…..maybe that spring is really morphing into summer soon so the button can come out of it’s winter warming spot and it’s time to break out the shorts so the button knew it was needed. LOL – a very conscientious button.

    • Ooh, I like the idea of this button somehow “knowing” its use would soon be required! Isn’t it odd how lost things seem to have a mind of their own? I hope you don’t mind, but I find it rather comforting that I’m not the only one stuff like this happens to!!

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