We have ID cards that we use to get into our rooms, pay for everything while on the ship and to get on and off the ship at port. Basically, they do everything, and we have been warned not to lose them because if you do your life will be miserable.

Sarah lost hers.

We spent every non-rehearsing hour today looking for it. Searching our cabin. Retracing her steps from last night. Asking at the front desk (twice). Asking at the lounge where we saw a show (twice). Asking at last night’s restaurant (twice).

Finally she resigned herself to having to apply for another one (and an inevitable scolding). Forms were filled out. Various ship personnel were tracked down for signatures. And at the final step, the chief security officer informed her that if and when she turned in the forms for a new ID, she would be on one week’s probation and not able to leave the ship at any port during that time. “Maybe keep this paperwork and look a little bit harder.”

We nodded politely, but I thought, “He thinks we haven’t looked for it, but we really did look everywhere it could possibly be. He just doesn’t understand.”

Then we trudged back to the cabin and promptly found the ID clipped to the sweater Sarah was wearing last night.