I hate losing stuff. This is one of the more frustrating aspects of parenthood. I can't tell you how many times we've set out on some excursion, only to return without one or more of our possessions: dropped out of our diaper bag, thrown from our stroller, falling off en route. One time, I actually retraced my steps the next morning and found a temporarily misplaced red mitten. But everything else is lost and gone forever, much to our chagrin. I guess the lesson is to hold tightly to our possessions in the literal sense, while holding loosely to them in the figurative sense.