Yeah but the mystery loses its charm when you're tearing apart couch cushions and the "culprit" is just happily smearing yogurt on the wall. Parker's got it right, you skip straight to the most absurd possible hiding spot a tiny chaos gremlin could conceive. Saved myself a whole panic attack last week by immediately checking the bathroom trash can, and yep, there was my car key fob. The real detective work is trying to figure out the toddler's utterly deranged logic after the fact.