they brought me a present.
it was a basket; wider than my pillow, deeper than the kitchen sink, filled with oodles of magical things. there were sharpie markers and colorful tupperware and food and snacks and kiwi-flavoured toothpaste and laundry detergent and cds and headbands and even those little bag clips you can get at ikea if you're lucky enough to live near one.
i was most excited about the bag clips. i put them in the kitchen in the drawer beside the stove.
so yesterday when i got home from work, i opened up a bag of frozen peas for supper, emptied half of it into the pot, and reached into the drawer for my new, cheerfully-colored bag clips.
i looked everywhere for them but they were not anyplace.
then it hit me like a sumo wrestler with steel fat.
a quick glance in the medicine cabinet where the toothpaste wasn't, a sweep of the cd cupboard where i saw that my new andrew bird cd was gone without a trace, a peek in the laundry room where there were no longer two boxes of laundry detergent.
finally, i flung the bead curtain door of the pantry out of my way and my suspicions were confirmed.
the snacks and food were gone too.
dreams are nice. dreams are great.
but those realistic ones'll get you every time.
i'm so dissapointed right now.