The Final Straw

You open the door, slowly enter the room. It's been a few days since there've been any incidences, so you forget to be worried. You're focused on getting into the house and putting the bags down, so you don't notice the scraps on the floor until you step on one. It could just be one of her toys, you think to yourself. Still in denial, but your heart beating a little faster now, you let your eyes follow the trail of remains. And there it is...



"What," you ask ""Is that?" Well I will tell you. It is my USA Running hat. The hat I adopted from Zach when we first were a couple. Seven years I've been wearing that hat and no other (except in the rare instances when I couldn't find it). It's my hat. Every guy and hat-wearing girl knows what I mean. I don't carry a purse, wear a watch, or even jewelry. It's my sole accessory. This hat has (see, I am still referring to it in the present tense) not only huge sentimental value, but also the value of practicality. It has shielded me from the world on each bad hair day/no-time-for-makeup day that I have had in my adult life. And now it is shattered, in a million pieces.

When do I think this happened? Oh, well, I suppose it was about the time we were at Thanksgiving location #2 and I said aloud the words, "Actually, it's probably been 4 days since she's chewed anything really bad." They were alone for 4 hours while we did round 1, then Zach came home to take the girls for a walk before meeting Jacob and I for round 2 at my aunt's. Another 4 hours alone and Mango must have been like "Thanksgiving this, be-och!"

I'm still trying to reconstruct the scene, however painful it may be. But here's what I'm thinking: The long, interlocking thing that has been serving as a gate was placed between the 2 foot-high Little Tykes slide and the 36" X 21" vanity cabinet for the new bathroom (still in the box - a fixture of our living room for 2 months now) on one end, between the desk and couch on the other end. Being 3 feet high, I consider the top of the box to the vanity cabinet a 'safe place'. My mistake. I think that's where my hat was left? It's the only reasonable thing I can figure right now. Normally that would be a safe place, but apparently not when there is a 2 foot high slide next to it. There is always a flaw in my plan.

Anyway, I don't know what this is the final straw to...I need some time to calm down here and the answer will come to me I guess. In the meantime, anybody want a dog?