...doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result each time.
The title of my blog is so appropriate, keep reading and you'll know what I mean. Of course right now a more appropriate title would be "You dumbass--didn't you learn your lesson the first time?" That would be me--the dumbass that is. I know, it's not often I call myself that, it's usually DH on the receiving end but this time it's me.
The lesson you'd think I learned was why not to leave my shoes on the back porch at night. Last night I left one pair of my Nikes out on the back porch because they had dirt on them and I didn't want to bring them in the house. I've done it several days this week and figured nothing would happen to them, so why would last night be any different? Of course it was at my own risk because one time DH did it and his shoes disappeared, first one, then the other. And now one of mine is gone. Good thing I have another pair. But still, what in hell am I supposed do with just ONE nike? If those little shits are expecting me to leave THAT one out there for them so they can have a matching pair, they are sadly mistaken.
Oh...who are "they?"
"They" would be the resident raccoon Maurice who is likely in cahoots with his brothers Robin, Andy and Barry. And perhaps the reason they didn't disappear sooner is because they had a concert somewhere. I think the last time DH's shoes disappeared, the perp was Sammy, who was, of course in cahoots with Dean, Frank, Joey, and Peter. But we haven't seem Sammy in a year, I think he and the rest of the "rac pack" are performing at the "Sands" in Vegas. Anyway when Sammy was here taking a vacation from the act, one night one of DH's shoes disappeared from the porch, next night the other disappeared. We eventually found DH's shoes in the woods but it had rained so much during that time we tossed them--yep we tossed a $60 pair of Nikes.
Today I walked out into five acres of woods searching for my shoe to no avail. But something told me that at any moment the damned thing would fall out of a tree and whack me in the head. And then I suppose I'd hear this raccoon cackle--something akin to the chipmunk laugh my mom used to say I had when I giggled.
Anyway, now I've got one shoe on the porch. Any thoughts on what I can do with it?