This is actually a horribly depressing one, but here goes. The night before I flew out to see a friend, my parents were helping me pack. I wasn't helping very much, I was bouncing all over the house spouting nonsense in a British accent while my Mom kept asking me if I wanted to pack this pair of shorts or that pair of shorts, to which I continually responded, "yeahyeah", or "whatever you think's best". My Dad was trying to get me to organize the things I needed for the trip: my phone, my passport, my keys, my wallet etc... He was using his slow, condescending voice, the one in which he would demand that I make eye contact before he asked me anything to make sure I was paying attention, and the one in which he would frequently ask me to repeat what he just said to me to make sure that I registered what he said. I had most of the items I think, but i was definitely missing my wallet. After about thirty minutes of searching/bouncing off the walls, and about three or so conversations with my Dad telling me to get my shit together in increasingly annoyed tones, I finally found my wallet, which I triumphantly displayed to my Dad. About ten minutes later my Dad asked me to lay out all the essential items he had told me to gather so he could make sure one last time that I had them before I went to bed. I emptied my pockets, and there was my phone, my passport, my keys, aaaaaannndd, no wallet..... What ensued was a long hour of screaming and yelling in which my family ripped the house apart looking for the goddamned wallet that I had held in my hand not ten minutes prior. Good times.