Thursday, October 11, 2012
I'm losing it. I'm losing my mind because I know, I'm absolutely sure, that my sock was lying on the bed a minute ago. So what happened between the time I answered the phone and walked back to the bed? I'll tell you what happened. It was my prankster daughter. She breezed past, snatching the sock and snickering at the ensuing mom madness. I'll tell you what happened. The stupid cat clawed at it, tucked it in her mouth and pussy-footed her way under the bed, adding this latest style to her vintage sock collection. I'll tell you what happened. The mailman, still carrying a grudge from no postbox Xmas present last year, ran inside and threw it in his mail bag. Later he'll leave me a ransom note and expect payment in the form of a bottle of liquor and greeting card. I'll tell you what happened. The last house guest stole the sock and put it up for auction on ebay, along with my woolen mitten, one earplug and my ex's dog-eared copy of, "How to Win Friends and Influence People." I'll tell you what ... oh — here it is. You're just lucky I found it, that's all I have to say. It could have gotten ugly. Now what happened to my keys?