Today, I called the Sam Houston Elementary School in Midland, Texas to ask if they had my rattle. I was tasked with calling them and telling them that I had lost my rattle when I went to school there in 1988 during my kindergarten year with Mrs. Baugh. They didn't have it. They only keep the lost and found items until the end of the semester, in this case right before Christmas break and at the end of the school year.
They keep the lost and found box in the gym, which I find strange. Seems to me you would hold that in the office where the couch couldn't steal from it. That might explain why so many coaches always wore shorts that were skin tight. They were just taking kids shorts from the lost and found box and putting them on. Seems an odd way to gain a wardrobe. None the less, my rattle is lost.
In a related story, I did loose my Big Bird rattle. My cousin brought his bratty daughter over to see my Granny and she let her play with it while she was there. When it was time to leave, the little snot goblin wouldn't let it go so my cousin said he would bring it back later. It is still missing to this day. I think that sometimes hating someone is Ok, especially when you take a rattle that a little boy grew up with and wanted to give to his children. I miss my rattle.
That is all,
Newt
3 Ripples in the pond:
Big Bird freaks me out. Always has. As a kid I used to hope that Mr Snuffleupagus would turn nasty and squish him ... or at least run him out of town.
I can't believe you just implied your father-in-law steals. Maybe I'll bring that up to him at dinner tonight. I'm sure he'll appreciate it.
Just because my father-in-law is a Coach does not mean that I will turn a blind eye to the tyranny of all those nut grabber wearing coaches I and many of my peers encountered in my youth.
And I am appalled at G.I. for her hatred of Big Bird. I thought she was a fellow avian lover(at least her previous post suggested it). Apparently a bird with a hormone deficiency should go without care.
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