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Losing Stuff

My mother has regular nightmares about losing her purse.
She has for years.
She has been known to wake my father up in the wee hours of the morning and
ask him where her purse is.

I am afflicted with the same problem.
I HATE HATE HATE losing things.

I lost a signet ring I got for Christmas when I was about 8 years old.
I lost a brand new white sweater that I loved when I was in junior high.
I lost a sterling silver pin on the bus when I worked in Pittsburgh.

I am still not over these losses, as you can see.
I am not sure what good it does to maintain a mental list of all the shit I have lost throughout my life.
I just know that I do this and I can't stop. 

So, Grammy and Pop Pop bought Boo a cute little pink fleece jacket.
It has been cold the past few weeks when they go on their little jaunts to the park, so she has worn it.

Last Saturday (aka Christmas Eve) this brand new jacket went missing. This fact was discovered in the morning when Pop Pop and the kids were on their way to the park (chilly morning and all).
We looked everywhere, but no dice.

I knew Grammy was going to lose her shit about this one, so I just kept my mouth shut.
It was Christmas Eve and I just wanted things to be nice.

And then, as we were approaching bedtime, and the big guy's visit was imminent, all hell broke loose.
Grammy found out about the missing jacket and landed on Pop Pop with both feet.

So, that happened.

It was not a particularly merry Christmas Eve. I will leave it at that.

So the next day, Pop Pop went online and ordered a new jacket.

All taken care of, no more muss, no more fuss.

Two nights ago, Grammy decided to empty out Boo's pink lunch box.

Go ahead and and guess what she found in there.

Yup, the jacket, STUFFED into a pretty small space by my daughter the damn ferret.

There were many apologies all around, including a big one from Boo to 
Pop Pop for throwing him under the bus.

Savory Tart

Whew. Part 2