Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Too Close for Comfort

Sometime during the night, someone stole my bicycle out of our carport.

I hadn't ridden it in about 7 years. Not even sure it had a chain on it. But that's not the point. No, it wasn't locked in the shed ~ we were actually going to get rid of it. But it's not like it was sitting out on the curb with a "Free to a Good Home" sign on it. It was in my carport. Just feet from the home where my children were sleeping. And that's what unnerves me.

I want to set up a sting operation, like "Bait Car". J is convinced some badbutt kids committed the theft. They must have been soaked because it stormed last night (where is that wayward bolt of lightning when you need it?!)

I'm thinking it was probably a deer. Yep, the one who ate my plants. Probably an avid reader of my blog, he saw those snarky comments I made and rode off into the night:

"Haha! You said no hooves on the hostas, but said nothing about your Huffy! Peace out, suckaaaaa!"

Joke's on him. He forgot the helmet. Who's laughing now, Bambi Boy?

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