In my old age I fear I'm turning into a crabby grouchy....crazy person. The noise in the house always seems to be a about 50 decibels too high. I'm magnetically drawn to the recliner the moment I walk in the door. It's as if I blackout at times and wake up sitting in the chair with no idea why I sat down or how I got there.
The wake up call came this past week when I had a what I'm going to call a "Get Off My Lawn" moment. Adam's favorite toy for the past 2 months has been his Captain America shield/frisbee. Honestly all pretenses aside, it's my favorite toy. Just the site of it makes me want to run outside and slice up some Hydra baddies while searching for the Red Skull. We came home last week to find the little boy next door was playing with one exactly like ours...his...mine. Immediately I began the interrogation. When did you play with yours last? Where did you leave it? Is that one yours? Can you find yours...ours...mine. It was nowhere to be found so I publicly vowed to go buy him another. Then I secretly vowed to steal Adam's...our...my favorite toy back the moment I saw it laying around.
I searched the yard daily, scanned my neighbors porch as I passed, plotted how I would get it back. Monday afternoon on our return home to the annual July 4th reunion at Granny's we learned that it had slipped behind Adam's bed and was found by Gigi. Clearly there's something to be said for making a bed. Something I don't do much. I should be sleeping better now that Adam's...our....my Captain America shield/frisbee is back, but I can't get over that I was two steps from stealing from a 5 yr old.
There's a reason I'm a blockhead.