A certain boy who will remain unnamed but whose identity is obvious got in trouble. Twice. In one day.
Taking his frustration out on ME (the one who caught him...twice), he decided to get a little revenge.
So he hid my pocketbook and my Bible.
I spent some time that night looking around for my Bible, then settled for another one from the bookcase...oh, who am I kidding? From the pile of books and papers on the kitchen table.
When I was getting ready for bed, I realized my pocketbook was missing. I found it in the dark, crawling around to look under the bed, using a flashlight so I wouldn't wake up Grace, who was sleeping peacefully and, no doubt, photogenically, in her crib. I found it under my bed, nearly dead center. It was no accident. And, at that point, I realized the missing Bible was no accident, either.
I eventually found my Bible the next afternoon in a crate where I keep infrequently-used school resources. I had decided to give the unnamed child some extra schoolwork. And there it was, tucked underneath enough things to make it not too obvious that it had been hidden, yet completely hidden from view. In a spot I have never put my Bible.
Now, I can laugh about this little bit of craziness, because I know it could have been a whole lot worse. The thing is, I was looking for my pocketbook because I needed my inhaler. And when you need your inhaler, you generally need it quickly. And the last thing I wanted to be doing was crawling around on the floor, fetching my pocketbook from waaaay underneath a dusty bed.
(For the record, I don't think it ever entered his mind that, by hiding my pocketbook, he would be hiding my inhaler.)
But now I've gotten my revenge by blogging about it, right? BWA-HA-HA! [evil laugh]