One of my all-time favorite comedians happens to be Steven Wright, known for his deadpan delivery of life’s questions and answers. Example:

“I got up one morning, couldn't find my socks, so I called Information. I said, ‘I can't find my socks.’” She said, ‘Hello, Information.’ I said, ‘I can't find my socks.’ She said, ‘They're behind the couch.’”

So, do you think the operator knows the answer to this?

Why are there never any ballpoint pens to be found when your kids are still living at home, but when they move away, suddenly drawers full of them appear?

Same with screwdrivers. And, how come you don’t remember to get the screwdriver out of the drawer until you are at the top of the ladder with a mouthful of screws?

Why, when someone calls with complicated directions to their house, can you only find four non-functioning pens, a broken pencil and a piece of Christmas tissue?

Why does your cellphone die just as you are about to complete a two-page Garden Supply order?

Related to that: Why does your Kindle shut down just before you are going to find out whodunit?

Why hasn’t anyone written a warning instruction manual for new brides, containing things like:

How come people always know when you are doing something dumb and they catch you in the act? Like drinking the orange juice out of the plastic carton because you didn’t want to wash another glass? Sniffing your armpits to make sure your deodorant is still working? Knocking over the bakery rack because you were digging through the hamburger buns at the very back looking for the freshest ones? How come people I’m traveling with keep asking me to be the navigator? I have been fired from that position more times than I can remember. I always try to give the driver an overview of the turns, stoplights and street names, just so they’ll be prepared. “No, nonononono, just give me one step at a time! I can’t remember that far out!” they say.

Then I hear: “We must have gone too far — I know it’s not this far. Could you please get out the map and tell me where we are?” Map? I can’t even find it in the glove compartment that fast, let alone get it unfolded. So, there went our turn and I hear: “I thought you’d been here before.”

How come when someone asks you for a restaurant recommendation and you gush over this place where you had the great pasta dish last week, does it turn out that the regular chef didn’t make it to work that night and sent his nephew, Winslow, instead? Winslow works at the local 7-11 and knows how to turn on the bratwurst grill.

Why, when you have agonized over upholstery fabric selections for a month or more, purchased and rejected enough samples to slipcover your Volkswagen Beetle and asked everyone you know for their opinion, do you get a sincere apology note from the fabric shop saying they are so sorry, but the fabric you ordered 14 yards of only has 2 yards left on the bolt?

Why do sewer systems back up, water pipes burst and electricity go out specifically on Thanksgiving and Christmas mornings?

How come, when you finally find that recipe for the kolachkes your mother used to make and they come out perfectly, after many years of trying, you misplace the piece of paper and never find it again?

You get all dressed up for a special occasion, wearing the new outfit you are pretty sure looks good on you. You have a great time, having a nice dinner and laughing all evening, life of the party. When you get home, you look in the mirror and see the toothpaste spatters across your front and your hair sticking up in the back, like Alfalfa in the “Our Gang“ comedies.

And, speaking of hair, why does your hair always look wonderful the day before your haircut appointment, and just awful the next day, after you have called to postpone and make a new appointment?

Why do you always lose at least two boxes of “stuff” with every house move? Where does it go? And why don’t you notice until a year later, when you are looking for the turkey baster? I wonder if it’s behind the couch.

I’m assuming that some of these things have happened to you and may cause a small chuckle. Unfortunately, almost every single one has happened to me. Chuckle.

Next time: The world of quilting competitions, where everybody’s “nice.”

Claudia Myers is a former costume designer for The Baltimore Opera, Minnesota Ballet and has taught design and construction at the College of St. Scholastica. She is a national award-winning quilter, author and a local antique dealer, specializing in Persian rugs.