It's a Mystery

I won't lie; this back to school routine is kicking my arse. Between the school sports, the paper work, the never-ending lunch making, I'm about done with school. 

You'd think after doing this for so many years I'd have mastered the art of parenting during the school year. Of course, you'd be wrong. I thrive on disorganization. Well, not really. I just can't seem to escape it.

It's been a particularly rough week around here. 

Knox's ear went missing.

Well, not his ear so much as his brand-new-only-11-months-old-so-not-really-brand-new-but-newish bionic hearing aide, but to be honest, it would be cheaper if he lost his actual ear and not just the insert.

From all accounts, his hearing aides were freshly inserted at 3 pm. He was loaded on to the bus and an hour later, just after getting off the bus his ear was gone.

It's not to be found. No one can find it.... Which, you know, is the definition of 'not to be found.' (Clumsy writing for the win!)

It's a mystery. A mystery worthy of Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle.  

In the span of sixty minutes I am out THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS (please please please let insurance cover this cost) and everyone is like *shrug, whatcha gonna do?*

Let me tell you what *I'm* gonna do:


Then pout.

And then YELL some more. 

I may even kick a rock. Down the driveway.

Then kick a rock again. Back UP the driveway.

And then I'm gonna YELL some more. Randomly. And, possibly, at strangers.

But only old people strangers. Old people who aren't wearing their hearing aides. So they can't actually hear me yelling at them. Because I don't want to seem rude. I'm fine with seeming crazy but I draw the line at rudeness. 

And then, after all the yelling, pouting and rock kicking, I won't lie. I'm going to cry. Crying makes everything better.

I just don't understand it. He went on the bus with both of his ears and got off the bus with only one of them.

Are kids these days selling hearing aides on the black market? Melting them down to snort them? 

Hoarding them to build a giant robot that they will set forth upon the world to rule it with the super power strength of its bionic ears?



And before you ask, no, Abbott did not eat it. He's an arsehole but he's a fussy arsehole that way. Also, he was nowhere near Knox when it was discovered the hearing aide was missing or even before. He was too busy chasing the Chihuahua who is in heat.

Did I mention my dog is an arsehole?

I'm not an arsehole Mom. I'm a HORNY TEEN.

I only wish he ate the hearing aide because I would gladly excavate poop than pony up the THOUSANDS of DOLLARS it's going to take to replace this necessary equipment. 

I don't have thousands of dollars. I'm jobless and I mooch off my husband.

My husband who is GOING TO BE SO MAD.

I'd rather excavate poop than tell my husband. AND I DON'T LIKE POOP. 

Google is going to forever think I have an excrement excavation fetish. Hello perverts brought here by Google. Welcome to the party!

So. To sum up: Knox's shiny bionic ear disappeared into the realm of 'never to be seen again,' shoulders have been shrugged, the dog has been cleared and the insurance people are going to be uncommonly kind and generous because if they aren't, the poor kid who lost all his teeth not two months ago and can't get them replaced will also have to wheel around deaf as my 66-year-old father who refuses to get his hearing checked.

And I already have to cope with one relative yelling "WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU," I can't handle another.

Please universe, bring back my kid's expensive medical equipment. The aliens don't need it. But Knox (and my bank account) certainly do.

*Kicks rock.*