Maybe the Dingo Ate the Remote

Let me preface this story with a backstory:

When I was in junior high or high school, I stayed home by myself while my sister, mom, and stepdad went somewhere. I was sitting in the recliner watching tv, and had the remote control in my hand. I had fallen asleep, and woke up when my family got home. The first question I was asked was, "where is the remote?" It was nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere. We dug our hands down the sides of the chair, turned it upside down, and couldn't find it. My parents then decided that I must have broken it and threw it away, then came up with the "I lost it in a chair" story. Of course, I maintained my innocence. My sister even came up to me later and said, "it's ok, you can tell me you broke it, I won't tell." I DIDN'T BREAK IT! I FELL ASLEEP AND NOW IT'S GONE! They never believed me. Until...years later my parents decided to get new recliners. My sister and I had moved out by then. I may have been in college. I honestly can't remember. I do remember getting a phone call, with my mom apologizing to me, saying that as they tore the chairs apart to make way for the new ones, the remote that I lost years ago FELL OUT OF THE CHAIR. I'm sure there was a lot of "I told you so's" in my response. I can't believe that it took the remote being found for them to believe me! I maintained my innocence all through the years, but that wasn't good enough.

Anyway...

Today I noticed that the remote to our DVD player was missing. We tore the house apart trying to find it. It was only after Steve checked my chair for the third time did we find it in the back of the chair. I don't know how it managed to get down there.

Long story short, I'm not allowed to touch the remotes anymore.