Most of the time it’s right in front of me, but my brain is just shortcutting over it.
It’s become a running gag in my house that my wife will set something down on the floor so that I can’t possibly miss it, like a laundry basket that needs to go downstairs, and I step over it without thinking.
One time, late at night, I went to my son’s bedroom to make sure he was asleep. His bed was empty. As I was leaving, I saw him asleep on the floor in the middle of the hall, which means I’d stepped over him.
Sometimes I just don’t see things.






I think he was on his way to come tell us something, then he got tired and fell back to sleep. He’s three.