sometimes they come back

I have a black hole in my house. I am pretty sure everyone does.
Its the place where things go for an indefinite period of time.
The black hole eats like a bird: small (it usually only takes one item out of a pair), and frequently.
If the black hole has legs, I imagine they are warmed with hundreds of layers of mismatched socks. The black hole LOVES socks.
But the black hole cannot be very big. I know because it never takes large items. Sometimes I wish the black hole would take a misbehaving kid or two.

It doesn't seem interested in that.

But the black hole isn't something to be overly concerned with.
Because the thing is, the black hole, has a conscience; the moment you announce that the certain item is lost forever and you buy yourself a replacement, well that is the moment the black hole decides to spew back out your missing item. Then there it is.
Alls well that ends well.

You see, the bigger problem here is this:
If you have one of these in your house, you have trouble.

I have one.
It has taken my keys.
I want them back. But the Bermuda Triangle takes things FOREVER. It's just something you have to accept; that you will never get those precious things back.

But I am not going down without a fight. So I tried to bargain with the Bermuda triangle. I offered it half the fat off my butt, my stomach and my thighs in exchange for my keys...

it was a no go.

But I am not going to give up; I have other chips with which to bargain. For example, I have loads of "creative" art work from my kids and a rock collection I would be willing to part with. I also have a collection of glass root beer bottles under Jonas' bed I wouldn't mind having disappear. But the most valuable collection is several thousand articles of my husbands clothes. I am hoping that is the clincher.

But if none of that works, my next plan is to gather up all the kitten of the month calenders in the world and offer them as a sacrifice. That ought to do the trick.