Finding the 4th object

Are you ready to test your observation skills with a tricky puzzle? The image above presents a simple yet deceptive challenge: find four hidden objects—a comb, a straw, a knife, and French fries. At first glance, some of them seem easy to spot, but the fourth object proves to be a real brain teaser.

Take a moment to carefully examine the image before scrolling further. Can you find all four objects? Many people struggle with the final one, so don’t be discouraged if you can’t spot it right away.

Let’s dive into some common mistakes, step-by-step analysis, and the final answer to see how well your eyes can catch details!

Common Mistakes People Make While Solving This Puzzle

This puzzle may seem simple, but it tricks even the sharpest minds. Why? Because our brains often overlook hidden details when processing a complex scene. Here are a few reasons why people struggle:

✔ Focusing on the obvious: Many quickly find the comb, straw, and knife but get stuck on the last item.

✔ Ignoring camouflaged details: The fourth object blends into the scene so well that it doesn’t stand out at first.

✔ Overthinking instead of trusting instincts: Sometimes, the answer is right in front of you, but you convince yourself it’s more complicated than it really is.

If you haven’t found all four objects yet, don’t worry! Let’s break it down step by step to uncover them together.

Video : Friday Fun

Step-by-Step Guide: Finding All Four Objects

Now, let’s analyze the image closely and reveal each hidden object.

1. Finding the Comb

The comb is cleverly placed in the nurse’s hand. She is holding it near the patient’s leg, making it easy to overlook. The white color of the comb blends in with her uniform, which makes it harder to notice at first glance.

2. Spotting the Straw

The straw is cleverly disguised as part of the stretcher’s frame. Many people mistake it for a regular object in the hospital scene, but if you look closely, you’ll see it stands out.

3. Identifying the Knife

The knife is hidden near the bottom of the stretcher, blending with the metallic parts of the structure. This placement is tricky because the sharp lines of the knife align with the stretcher bars.

4. Discovering the Fourth Object: French Fries!

This is where most people get stuck. The French fries are camouflaged near the patient’s left hand. They blend in with the character’s bright yellow and red outfit, making them difficult to spot immediately.

If you didn’t find this one right away, don’t feel bad! Even highly observant individuals struggle with it.

Final Thoughts: Challenge Yourself and Share Your Answer!

Now that you’ve uncovered all four objects, how did you do? Did you find them all on your own, or did you need a little guidance?

These types of puzzles are not only fun but also help train your brain to improve pattern recognition, focus, and attention to detail.

Video : I’m Sure You Can’t Find The 4th Object

👉 Drop a comment below and let us know how long it took you to find the fourth object!

👉 Share this puzzle with your friends and challenge them—can they find the hidden objects faster than you did?

👉 Try more visual puzzles to keep sharpening your observation skills!

There are plenty of fun hidden object challenges out there, so keep testing yourself and having fun while training your brain!

My Neighbor Installed a Toilet on My Lawn with a Note, ‘Flush Your Opinion Here,’ After I Asked Her Not to Sunbathe in Front of My Son’s Window

When I politely asked my neighbor to stop sunbathing in bikinis in front of my teenage son’s window, she retaliated by planting a filthy toilet on my lawn with a sign: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!” I was livid, but karma delivered the perfect revenge.

I should’ve known trouble was brewing when Shannon moved in next door and immediately painted her house purple, then orange, and then blue. But I’m a firm believer in living and letting live. That was right up until she started hosting bikini sunbathing spectacles right outside my 15-year-old son’s window.

A woman lying on a lounger | Source: Pexels

A woman lying on a lounger | Source: Pexels

“Mom!” my son Jake burst into the kitchen one morning, his face redder than the tomatoes I was slicing for lunch. “Can you… um… do something about that? Outside my window?”

I marched to his room and peered out the window. There was Shannon, sprawled out on a leopard-print lounger, wearing the tiniest bikinis that could generously be called dental floss with sequins.

“Just keep your blinds closed, honey,” I said, trying to sound casual while my mind raced.

A woman opening curtains | Source: Pexels

A woman opening curtains | Source: Pexels

“But I can’t even open them to get fresh air anymore!” Jake slumped against the bed.

“This is so weird. Tommy came over to study yesterday, and he walked into my room and just froze. Like, mouth open, eyes bulging, full system shutdown. His mom probably won’t let him come back!”

I sighed, closing the blinds. “Has she been out there like that every day?”

“Every. Single. Day. Mom, I’m dying. I can’t live like this. I’m going to have to become a mole person and live in the basement. Do we have Wi-Fi down there?”

A teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

A teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney

After a week of watching my teenage son practically parkour around his room to avoid glimpsing our exhibitionist neighbor, I decided to have a friendly chat with Shannon.

I usually mind my own business when it comes to what people do in their yards, but Shannon’s idea of ‘sunbathing’ was more like a public performance.

She’d lounge around in the skimpiest of bikinis, sometimes even going topless, and there was no way to miss her every time we stood near Jake’s window.

A woman sunbathing | Source: Pexels

A woman sunbathing | Source: Pexels

“Hey, Shannon,” I called out, aiming for that sweet spot between ‘friendly neighbor’ and ‘concerned parent’ tone of voice. “Got a minute?”

She lowered her oversized sunglasses, the ones that made her look like a bedazzled praying mantis. “Renee! Come to borrow some tanning oil? I just got this amazing coconut one. Makes you smell like a tropical vacation and poor life choices.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk about your sunbathing spot. See, it’s right in front of my son Jake’s window, and he’s 15, and—”

“Oh. My. God.” Shannon sat up, her face splitting into an unnervingly wide grin. “Are you seriously trying to police where I can get my vitamin D? In my own yard?”

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

“That’s not what I—”

“Listen, sweetie,” she cut me off, examining her hot pink nails like they held the secrets to the universe. “If your kid can’t handle seeing a confident woman living her best life, maybe you should invest in better blinds. Or therapy. Or both. I know this amazing life coach who could help him overcome his repression. She specializes in aura cleansing and interpretive dance.”

“Shannon, please. I’m just asking if you could maybe move your chair literally anywhere else in your yard. You have two acres!”

A startled woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels

A startled woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels

“Hmm.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, then reached for her phone. “Let me check my schedule. Oh, look at that! I’m booked solid with not caring about your opinion until… forever.”

I retreated, wondering if I’d somehow stumbled into an episode of “Neighbors Gone Wild.” But Shannon wasn’t done with me yet. Not by a long shot.

Two days later, I opened my front door to grab the newspaper and stopped dead in my tracks.

There, proudly displayed in the middle of my perfectly manicured lawn, was a toilet bowl. Not just any toilet. It was an old, filthy, tetanus-inducing throne, complete with a handwritten sign that read: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!”

I knew it was Shannon’s handiwork.

A toilet with a sign installed on the lawn | Source: Midjourney

A toilet with a sign installed on the lawn | Source: Midjourney

“What do you think of my art installation?” her voice floated over from her yard. She was perched on her lounger, looking like a very smug, very underdressed cat.

“I call it ‘Modern Suburban Discourse.’ The local art gallery already wants to feature it in their ‘Found Objects’ exhibition!” she laughed.

“Are you kidding me?” I gestured at the porcelain monstrosity. “This is vandalism!”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“No, honey, this is self-expression. Like my sunbathing. But since you’re so interested in giving opinions about what people do on their property, I thought I’d give you a proper place to put them.”

I stood there on my lawn, staring at Shannon cackling like a hyena, and something inside me just clicked.

You know that moment when you realize you’re playing chess with a pigeon? The bird’s just going to knock over all the pieces, strut around like it won, and leave droppings everywhere. That was Shannon.

I crossed my arms and sighed. Sometimes the best revenge is just sitting back and watching karma do its thing.

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

The weeks that followed tested my patience. Shannon turned her yard into what I can only describe as a one-woman Woodstock. The sunbathing continued, now with an added commentary track.

she invited friends, and her parties rattled windows three houses down, complete with karaoke renditions of “I Will Survive” at 3 a.m. She even started a “meditation drum circle” that sounded more like a herd of caffeinated elephants learning to Riverdance.

Through it all, I smiled and waved. Because here’s the thing about people like Shannon — they’re so busy writing their own drama that they never see the plot twist coming.

And oh boy, what a twist it was.

People at a party | Source: Unsplash

People at a party | Source: Unsplash

It was a pleasant Saturday. I was baking cookies when I heard sirens. I stepped onto my porch just in time to see a fire truck screech to a halt in front of my house.

“Ma’am,” a firefighter approached me, looking confused. “We received a report about a sewage leak?”

Before I could respond, Shannon appeared, wearing a concerned citizen face that deserved an Oscar. “Yes, officer! That toilet over there… it’s a health hazard! I’ve seen things… terrible things… leaking! The children, won’t someone think of the children?”

A firefighter holding a fire extinguisher | Source: Pexels

A firefighter holding a fire extinguisher | Source: Pexels

The firefighter looked at the bone-dry decorative toilet, then at Shannon, then back at the toilet. His expression suggested he was questioning every life choice that led him to this moment.

“Ma’am, making false emergency reports is a crime. This is clearly a lawn ornament,” he paused, probably wondering why he had to say a phrase like that as part of his job.

“A dry lawn ornament. And I’m a firefighter, not a health inspector.”

A firefighter staring at someone | Source: Pexels

A firefighter staring at someone | Source: Pexels

Shannon’s face fell faster than her sunscreen coverage rating. “But the aesthetic pollution! The visual contamination!”

“Ma’am, we don’t respond to aesthetic emergencies, and pranks are definitely not something we respond to.”

With that, the firefighters left the property, but karma wasn’t finished with Shannon. Not by a long shot.

An angry woman gritting her teeth | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman gritting her teeth | Source: Midjourney

The fire truck drama barely slowed her down. If anything, it inspired her to reach new heights. Literally.

One scorching afternoon, I spotted Shannon hauling her leopard-print lounger up a ladder to her garage roof. And there she was, perched up high like some sort of sunbathing gargoyle, armed with a reflective tanning sheet and what looked like an industrial-sized margarita.

I was in my kitchen, elbow-deep in dinner dishes, and wondering if this was the universe’s way of testing my blood pressure when the sound of chaos erupted outside.

Close-up of a woman sunbathing | Source: Pexels

Close-up of a woman sunbathing | Source: Pexels

I heard a splash and a screech that sounded like a cat in a washing machine. I rushed outside to find Shannon face-down in her prized petunias, covered from head to toe in mud.

Turned out that her new rooftop sunbathing spot had met its match — her malfunctioning sprinkler system.

Our neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, dropped her gardening shears. “Good Lord! Shannon, are you trying to recreate Baywatch? Because I think you missed the beach part. And the running part. And the… well… every part.”

Shannon scrambled up, caked in mud. Her designer bikini was now accessorized with grass stains and what appeared to be a very surprised earthworm.

A shocked woman with mud on her face | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman with mud on her face | Source: Midjourney

Following the incident, Shannon was as quiet as a church mouse. She stopped sunbathing in front of Jake’s window, and the dirty toilet bowl on my lawn disappeared faster than a magician’s rabbit.

Shannon invested in a privacy fence around her backyard, and our long suburban nightmare was over.

“Mom,” Jake said at breakfast the next morning, cautiously raising his blinds, “is it safe to come out of witness protection now?”

I smiled, sliding him a plate of pancakes. “Yeah, honey. I think the show’s been canceled. Permanently.”

A teenage boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

A teenage boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

“Thank god,” he muttered, then grinned. “Though I kind of miss the toilet. It was weirdly starting to grow on me. Like a really ugly lawn gnome.”

“Don’t even joke about that. Eat your pancakes before she decides to install a whole bathroom set!” I said, sharing a hearty laugh with my son as we looked at the wall around Shannon’s yard.

Window view of an empty yard | Source: Pexels

Window view of an empty yard | Source: Pexels

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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