My husband is one of those enviable people who literally clears off his desk at the end of the day. Alas, I am not that kind of person.
Instead, within a few inches, I can touch the following items while sitting at my desk, working on my laptop. (I am one of those people who must work at a desk, even though my laptop is portable. As it turns out, I, myself, am not portable.)
The Items I Can Easily Reach:
Ziploc bag containing debit card, driver’s license, various receipts from today’s Wild Waves adventure, seasons passes to Wild Waves, coins.
Large fake pink diamond. By large, I mean “the size of an apple.”
Coupon for $10 off any item at Famous Footwear, expired yesterday.
Stack of important papers I cannot seem to file, including kindergarten homework, magazines, expired coupons and Pampered Chef catalog. And more.
Scattering of sticky-notes.
Two painted rocks.
Uni-ball Signo pen, the only pen worth writing with.
Red bandana folded into a square which I use as a coaster so my icy drinks do not sweat on my desk.
Cheap plastic headband from Dollar Store.
Jacks and two rubber balls.
Lid to Snapple.
Basket full of bills.
Pottery full of pens and pencils, Ticonderoga only, thank you.
Expired YMCA cards.
Television remote control.
Pack of thank-you notes.
You should know that all of these items do not belong to me.
* * *
Today I took two of my kids and two of their friends to Wild Waves. There were easily three times the number of people in the park this week compared to last week. I blame the gorgeous weather. My left shoulder is inexplicably sunburned.
Last week, one of the kids I brought with me (not my kid), left his backpack sitting on a lounge chair three chairs away from mine. Even as I sat there reading, it was stolen. STOLEN! I couldn’t believe it. I had the boys check Lost & Found, just in case. (I am weirdly optimistic at the craziest, most inappropriate times.) No backpack.
Some time later, I happened to glance up just as a burly police officer walked by swinging a familiar-looking backpack. I ran after him and asked about the backpack. Sure enough, it had just been “found.” He told me the boys could claim it at Lost & Found.
Which we did, later. Turns out that someone had been stealing quite a lot of backpacks. I could not believe how lucky we had been–not only had his backpack turned up without anything but two quarters missing, but during the first hour of the afternoon, I’d left my own bag tucked under a lounge chair–with my iPhone, cash, debit card, and MORE in the bag. I’d learned a lesson without actually losing anything valuable–other than my belief in the goodness of my fellow waterpark visitors.
Today, fast forward to today. One week later.
I rented a locker and did not leave my belongings unattended even for a second.
At some point, I looked up from my book and noticed a King County Sheriff and two security guys walk past. A bit later, I looked up again and saw the same burly police officer from a week ago escorting a handcuffed woman out of the park–the same woman that was said to be stealing the week before. I have never been so delighted to see someone in handcuffs. [Insert your own joke here.] And then came along three security guards and the sheriff who carried a backpack.
All that to say . . . well, you can’t trust anyone. Also? What is WRONG with people?
2) I can see your butt crack. Pull up your suit.
3) Your pants are falling down! Also? I can see your underpants!
4) You’re sitting in the path. Seriously. That’s the path. Hello? Do you park your car in intersections, too?
All in all, another successful outing. I hope my kids remember this!