If my head weren't attached...

...yep, it would be gone.

I accidentally left my car unlocked Sunday night only to get into it Monday morning and see that everything had been rifled through. My glove box was emptied and my center console was a disaster, receipts, CDs, and a bunch of miscellaneous stuff strewn about. (Sidenote - maybe I should write a blog about what people keep in their glove boxes or center consoles. Mine would be a lengthy list including a toothbrush and a replica of the Academy Awards' Oscar statue)

Taking a quick inventory, the only thing I noticed missing was a roll of quarters for laundry that I had yet to take into the apartment. My brand new phone charger and hands-free headset weren't touched. Neither were my Oakley sunglasses - although nearly seven years old and badly scratched, I would have left them too. But, get this, they didn't even take my spare car key that I had left in there from warming my car up a few days prior. (For you warm-stated folks, when the temperature is subzero, we Northerners have to warm our cars up for a good ten minutes before they function properly...and so we don't have to pry our frozen fingers from the steering wheel) That's right folks, an invitation to take my car for a joyride and they didn't accept. Perhaps the SMELLI license plate would have cramped their style. But it wasn't until the next day when I was searching for my volleyball bag that contains my shoes, kneepads and ball pump that I realized that I had left that in my car Sunday night as well. Of all things to take! My volleyball shoes?? Kneepads?? At the least the perp will be easy to spot. Just look for someone with a jingle in their pocket and a bulge around the knees wearing bright white Asics.

Feeling utterly violated and enraged at myself for being so careless, I drive to the grocery store to stock up on cold and flu season essentials - honey, OJ, V8, chicken noodle soup, saltines, and airborne. I get everything on my list, checkout at the U-Scan (which, by the way, I think is the best invention EVER) and go about my merry way. At home Nicole helps me take care of the groceries and just as I'm about to reach for the bag of chicken noodle soup I just bought so that I can make us lunch, it's not there. No, it's not in the car, I'm sure of it. Really? This is happening? As I am about to have a nervous breakdown, Nicole quickly offers to go back to Kroger for the missing bag o' soup while I attempt to calm my frayed fragile nerves. I describe what my head looks like to Nicole, in case she should find it along the way...