Imagine a thirteen year old-girl in full whine mode. Why? Because the nefarious cleaning people have stolen both her i-touch and her camera.
My assertion that the cleaning people had NOT stolen anything and maybe she should clean up her room was met with the derision it deserved. No one can sneer like a teenager.
Last night, after a month of complaints, I offered to help her find her missing electronics. We looked in messy drawers, we searched under the bed and we shook down her little sister. Nothing.
"See. I told you. They stole it."
"Have you looked in the couch?" I queried.
"It's not there."
"How do you know if you haven't looked?"
"I just know."
Despite her absolute certainty, I moved dreamy husband and crazy dog (who isn't supposed to be on the couch anyway). Cushions were removed and sleeves pushed up.
The couch yielded $3.87 in change, six pens, seven ponytail holders, eight pens, candy wrappers galore, one camera and one i-touch.
I handed over the goods and gently pointed out that accusing perfectly nice women of theft when she couldn't put away her belongings might not be the best policy. This was met with an eye-roll of epic proportions. Imagine that.