Things.... disappear

The school nurse called today and suggested I remove my infected daughter from their campus.

Thus began a whirlwind tour around the county to get my daughter to the doctor and in protective care so I could get back to work.

I ended up in my father's kitchen, eating his famous boiled pasta and heated Ragu Super Chunky Mushroom (which he has absolutely perfected), and while we were cleaning up, we started trading stories about Zoe's penchant for discarding her garbage wherever she feels the whim.

I'd like to say Dad won, but a popsicle stick in the yard and a sucker stick behind the LaZBoy didn't match my multiple Pudding Pop wrappers under the armoire or the three granola bar wrappers under the couch.

But Dad and I continued to spar, under the watchful, if fallen, Zoe.

Dad: I baked cookies, and she ate all of them!

Me: I bought groceries, and she at all of them!

So Dad, in his defeat, decided to show Zoe how it's done right. He called her over to his garbage can and lifted a discarded bag from the top of the heap.

"Zoe, if you need to get rid of something, and you want to hide it, just lift the top thing up, throw your thing in, and cover it up."

He replaced the discarded bag to show how it could cover up the contents beneath it.


GEE, THANKS DAD. Now she'll manage to find all the kindergarten artwork and stained jeans I manage to hide in our own garbage.

Dad wins this one.