Well, anyway, to put you out of this nail biting suspense .... we found boobankie. In the clothes hamper in the kids' bathroom, a place we'd checked a collective three times, so I'm pretty sure there's some crazy ghost of a dead old maid messing with us like on American Horror Story (are you watching that? OMG you must! Rubber man!)
And now the steaks are on the grill.
And the kid is in his bed.
And the Packers are 7-0.
And tomorrow morning, I'm going to hot glue that %$#@!&$ boobankie to his headboard.