Spoon Gnomes

I would like to know where all the small items go in this house.

Specifically teaspoons.

Once upon a time, I had a very nice set of Oneida flatware. Sure, it's not sterling silver, but I like it. While the knives have remained intact, I am down to six forks and one teaspoon. While we're at it, I'm missing a crap load of baby spoons too. Where are these things going?

It has actually crossed my mind that my husband may be a closet crack addict. Briefly. It's not like I searched his man cave for spoons and syringes or anything. That he knows about. We'll keep that between ourselves.

After exhausting all other possibilities, I am now a firm believer in Silverware Gnomes. Laugh at me if you must, but I know they exist. There's no other explanation. How many times have you rummaged through your purse looking for an item, only to look again five minutes later and it's right there? That, my friend, was the doings of a Purse Gnome. When you hear a noise late at night, yet nothing is there? Sock Gnomes.

All missing items can be blamed on these malicious gnomes.

I know that someday, somehow, I will find a pile of my missing treasures. Spoons, forks, socks, keys, batteries, pens, and the like.

And when I find their magical lair, I'm going to steal their tiny little pants.