Today Pipsqueak couldn't find her Dora bike. I figured she left it in the yard, or maybe on the side. But sure enough, that pink metal-tetunus-waiting-to-happen-four-wheeler was nowhere to be found.
My first instinct (and I'm not proud of this) was, "Some manual laborer drove past our house, went into our garage and took my kid's bike!"
My second instinct (and I'm equally not proud of this) was, "That painter who's working on our place... I don't trust him. He is messy and too complimentary and a slippery fish. He figures we have dough and told some buddy of his about the bike."
In a huff, I emailed Rex.
Sidenote: If my left arm had been cut off and I phoned him in hysteria, I would get a response three days later, asking me if I'd properly tied the wound before calling ER. But email him about a leaf hitting the ground in Maine? Instant response.
Me: "SOMEONE STOLE PIPSQUEAK'S WHEELS!!!!!!!"
Rex: "I hung it over my work bench to make room for the ladder."
Of course. How logical.
So then I feel really bad. And judgemental. And predictably, silly. We have a JBL stereo system hooked up, and some really nice tools. And all my Ebay inventory. Why would someone creep into our garage in broad daylight to nab a $35.00 K-mart item?
It's so easy to jump to conclusions. And though I didn't accuse anyone directly, it was a little reminder to not judge a book by its cover.
So later today, after buying some new rocks for our turtle (pink of course... guess who was shopping with me?) I gave my change to a homeless lady in the parking lot - which I NEVER do. Will she use them for drugs? All 75cents?! Shouldn't she have a job like everyone else? Shouldn't she go to a shelter and get rehabilitated? Maybe all three?
Or maybe she was a mom once who lost her way, and isn't so lucky to have someone painting her house and creating false stories in the comfort of a flat screen tv and a nice computer.
All this analysis is simply too much for me on a Monday night. Which is why, once again, I'm off the bandwagon and sipping a Diet Coke at 9pm. I'm an addict.
Don't jump to conclusions on me.