Well, I guess not anymore.
I fully recognize that I am upset way out of proportion to the crime I am about to describe. And I also acknowledge that I probably would not be this upset if I hadn’t spent yesterday flat on my back with the stomach flu, forced to drink Sprite. I hate Sprite. But those are the extenuating circumstances I am dealing with here, and I am upset. Comma, very.
So, today I sent Tom to the grocery store to pick up a few last minute things. When he came home he told me he had cleaned out my car. I know he meant well, but this is not a good thing. And then he says to me “I found the parking pass from the Speedway Methodist Church”. I told him “yeah, I was saving that, it’s lucky”. Well, he threw it out. He threw out the lucky parking pass I have been saving. He threw out the parking pass from the US Grand Prix at Indianapolis. And to make matters worse, he threw it out in the Cub Foods parking lot. So I can’t even get it back. Actually I am half tempted to go digging for it, but by now somebody has probably chucked a half finished Mountain Dew on top of it anyway.
I can’t even get a new one next year because they don’t have the US Grand Prix at Indianapolis anymore because that money-grubbing toxic vampire Bernie Ecclestone cancelled it. And yes, I realize all vampires are probably toxic.
Granted, I have plenty of other lucky charms, a Tootsie Pop wrapper with an Indian on it, a business card from the Mr. Whippy ice cream shop in Chincoteague, VA, ticket stubs from ballgames, a blue plastic racecar. So I am not lacking other sources of luck, but that one was particularly near and dear to my heart, and now it is on its way to the local landfill. That makes me sad.