It often occurs to me that if a Martian were to eavesdrop on my home, pick up all the random mutterings I mutter to myself when I'm alone, and try to parse some meaning out of them, he'd be left with a lot of strange ideas.

Foremost among those strange ideas, it usually seems to me, would be that there is some unspecified item in my home which I lose far more frequently than anything else, called the ‘oh there it is’.