The Island of Missing Items

There are a great many things I never expected to say in my life. “Honey, there’s a problem with one of our back windows, but don’t worry, I think it’s still there,” is one of them. (Because the idea that it might NOT be there – that it might have suddenly decided to detach itself and plunge to an untimely death in the middle of the bypass – is a real possibility.)

One of the rear windows on our car is spontaneously missing. No big deal. It’s just another random thing that we suddenly can’t find anymore. Happens all the time.

Although, in the case of this window, I do believe it’s still there. It seems to have somehow been rolled down all the way (sometime in the last two hours) and now refuses to roll back up; although I have no idea when it would have been rolled down since the Mister and I never use those windows and the dog spent her entire car ride to the clinic standing on the center console – so she wasn’t anywhere near the windows to have accidentally rolled one down. Who knows. I have no idea how to fix it or replace it, so it’s being added to the growing list of things that are wrong with our vehicle. Welcome to island life.

But I mentioned other things that are suddenly gone from our lives, didn’t I? A pair of purple water shoes I brought from the States and remember having in our dorm room… gone. A handful of puzzle pieces that were put together on the coffee table… gone. Various other items that I remember packing into boxes when we left our last house… gone. I remember unpacking them at one place and then don’t remember packing them and getting them to the next place (yet there was nothing left at the old house or in our dorm room). No idea what happens to them in the interim.

The puzzle pieces are a special mystery, since I had the outside border and two inches on the bottom assembled, yet the only pieces disturbed were a dozen or so on one corner. The rest were untouched. The only viable conclusions seem to be A) The dog ate them [unsure, since more of the puzzle would have been destroyed in the process and there was never any evidence of the San Francisco skyline in her poop.]; B) Something, maybe a bird, flew in through the open porch doors and stole a dozen pieces; or C) This house is haunted.

My secret conclusion is that this island is not really an island at all, but some sort of giant dormant sea creature which is quietly absorbing random objects and using them to create an evil plan to rid itself of the parasitic humans living on its back.

Or something like that. I could be a bit hazy on the details. But I am certain it will be wearing my purple water shoes when it’s all said and done.

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