I own(-ed) a king size comforter that fit(-ted?) perfectly on our king size bed. It is pretty and warm and mine. When Adelaide fell ill recently I brought her into our room, as I do when she is sick, to spend the night with us. And by spend the night, I mean she sleeps. May and I take turns not sleeping as Addie tosses and turns wildly about as though she were secretly boxing us . . . and winning handily.
Anyway, she threw up on my king size comforter that fit(-ted?) so wonderfully on my king size bed.
So we took down the comforter and hauled it over to the local laundromat to get it wershed. I put it in the washer. $3. I returned an hour later to put it in the dryer. $2. Later I returned to retrieve my comforter. It was gone. Thats right gone.
Apparently, anyone can walk into a laundromat, open your dryer (the smarter ones wait until the load is actually dry) and remove your good for their own gain. In this instance it was my king size comforter that fit(-ted?) so sweetly on my king size bed.
Any ideas for revenge? I thought of some, but May gave me three rules when we got married.
One: I am not allowed to actually kill anyone . . . or have them killed, etc.
Two: If I do kill someone I can't write a story about how and why I did it and submit it to the local newspaper.
Three: Along with that story I cannot submit a picture of myself in my nakediciousness for print.
So, as it is plain to see, I am out of ideas.
Anyway, she threw up on my king size comforter that fit(-ted?) so wonderfully on my king size bed.
So we took down the comforter and hauled it over to the local laundromat to get it wershed. I put it in the washer. $3. I returned an hour later to put it in the dryer. $2. Later I returned to retrieve my comforter. It was gone. Thats right gone.
Apparently, anyone can walk into a laundromat, open your dryer (the smarter ones wait until the load is actually dry) and remove your good for their own gain. In this instance it was my king size comforter that fit(-ted?) so sweetly on my king size bed.
Any ideas for revenge? I thought of some, but May gave me three rules when we got married.
One: I am not allowed to actually kill anyone . . . or have them killed, etc.
Two: If I do kill someone I can't write a story about how and why I did it and submit it to the local newspaper.
Three: Along with that story I cannot submit a picture of myself in my nakediciousness for print.
So, as it is plain to see, I am out of ideas.
Thats me (right) and thats my posse (left). If you took my king size comforter that belongs safely on my king size bed, this is the look we are now giving you.
7 comments:
um, yeah this exact thing happened when i was growing up! maybe we all need to start bringing padlocks to the laundromat. if i see your comforter that fitted, i will tackle said thief and call you immediately. better yet, i will let chase sick said person and lick them til they drown in his drool.
Oh man, such a bummer. I left my clothes to dry in a laundromat during college and someone came and stole everything... all my clothes that I wore except for the pj's I had on... I know your pain, it sucks! Good luck finding and hurting the stealer... he deserves it!
Take your uzi & put one of the matching pillowcases over your head kerchief-style & lay in wait at the time in question (you can take tootsie roll pops or smartees to help pass the time). You'll know the quilty party right off by their blanched expressions. If they're penitant & it's still clean, you can eventually forgive them. Reassure May that you don't really intent to kill anyone. I'll be happy to join the stake out vigilantes.
That was your comforter? Had I only known I would have kept my hands to myself.
that blows! when kade threw up on our feather bed, i forgot i put it in the laundry room until it was moldy and i just put it in the trash. hope adelaide feels better soon and no more pukey on the bed
if you need me too, i could shoot someone for you!
Poor cement in one of the washers. Then, when the guy tries to steal it, it's just a block of cement! And then you can trip him, pull out the block of cement and drop it on his legs. No death. No rule breaking.
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