Part of the reason we are leaving the city to move to a suburb is because of the completely unpredictable and potentially dangerous situations that can occur. And then there are those situations that just piss me off.
Last year the kids saw this life-sized skeleton in a catalog. It wasn't a cheesy plastic one, it looked very realistic, weighed about five pounds and I think I paid $150 for it. But it was really cool. Last year we had him lounging on the wicker chair with a real feather crow on his shoulder and his feet up on the coffee table.
This year Charlie decided he wanted the skeleton to be standing up. Mark got some twine and hung him from the porch, and used wire to suspend his hands like he was waving. We were all totally thrilled with the outcome. Well, about a week later someone stole our skeleton.
I was dreading breaking the news to Charlie. I imagined him crying in disappointment. When he finally came downstairs for breakfast I said, "Char, I have some bad news."
"What is it?"
"Someone stole our skeleton."
Very pragmatically, "Why?"
"Well, my guess is they liked it and didn't have enough money to buy one and so they stole ours."
Then we had the required reminder that they were not bad guys, just people who made a bad choice to steal because stealing is wrong and against the law.
"And rude." He reminded me.
"Yes, rude."
There was a long pause, as Charlie stared off into space, as he often does when he is thinking. Then came to and said "I knew we should have put him sitting down. He probably got tired and went to someone else's house."
