I live with adult Ds. By the kettle, I have a spoon rest with, unsurprisingly perhaps, a spoon on it. I leave the spoon there all day because I use it to stir my tea. In the evening it goes in the dishwasher. Adult ds knows this.
And yet, Every Time I go to stir my tea, my spoon has gone! Every. Time. I mean, tbf, I've probably only mentioned it a million times so I expect I should say it a bit more often. This morning, the absent spoon has catapulted me into a seething raging murderous mood.
Like I said, it's the little things ...