You're not alone, Robbo.
Since last Christmas was The Lad's first, it was spent in Minnesota, where TFR's family lives, and my mother, as well as my sister and her husband (all of whom live in Michigan) met us there. Because we left on the 18th and didn't return until after New Years Day, we didn't get a tree for our place. That means the last time we had a tree and did serious decorating was Christmas of 2004, and the last time we put AWAY Christmas ornaments and decorations was some time in January of 2005 (Hey, we're not as bad as SOME people). We have color-coded Rubbermaid containers for our decorations and ornaments, but by the time they were filled, we didn't have room left in them for our lights. Money was tight, and (more importantly) I was feeling lazy, so instead of going to the store and getting another container, and rather than risking the lights in a flimsy cardboard box, I decided (despite TFR's protests) to store them in an old Samsonite hardside suitcase. I tied red and green ribbon on the handle (so I'd remember what was in them), and stored them in the attic (you see what's coming, doncha?).
Fast forward almost two years, to yesterday evening. We spent the afternoon after church driving out to a Christmas tree farm in Veneta, because the proceeds of the sales there yesterday went to our church youth group's mission trip this spring. We picked out a 7' douglas fir. Usually I would prefer a white or noble fir, but because they were for a fundraiser, and fresh cut, the trees were higher priced than we usually pay -- the doug alone cost $25.
So we got home, got the living room rearranged, and the tree set up, and I went to the garage to get out the Christmas decorations. I got all of the boxes out, and began to panic. Why?
You guessed it -- no lights. I searched high 9the attic) and low (the garage), but no lights. I eventually gave up and went to bed.
This morning I started again with the search, and ended up doing a yeoman's job of cleaning the garage in an attempt to find the missing box of lights (box, mind you), all to no avail. TFR even questioned whether I had truly looked through ALL of the boxes in the garage and attiv.
After about an hour, and at wit's end, it suddenly dawned on me what had happened. I clambered back up into the attic, dug out the suitcase, and let out a triumphant whoop as soon as I saw the red and green ribbon. I hauled it down and lugged it into the house, putting a triumphant spin on things when I declared, "See? I TOLD you I looked in all the boxes!"