Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Don't Hire my Kids...


They were trained by the best in the field during Grandpa Camp.
They learned how to gather intelligence, crack codes, and shadow bad guys.
They may look cute as spies, but don't hire them.


Here's the scoop.
My favorite dress went missing.
It was a dark and stormy night.
We moved across the country, and the dress disappeared.
Vanished. Vamoose. Hasta la Vista.
You get the picture.
So I hire these guys to find it.
They're cute as spies. I thought they could get the job done.
They were my only hope.
I said I'd pay them the big bucks, because the dress had sentimental value.
I needed to get it back.
They put on their dark glasses, hats, and shirts.
They pulled out their notebooks and magnifying glasses.
They searched for months.
Nothing.
The clues they found led them to believe, and I quote,
"A 16 year old guy came and took it, and now it's in Iraq."
I gave up.
The dress was gone.
I couldn't afford a ticket to Iraq.
This morning, I caught my husband holding my dress.
Turns out, it was in his sock drawer the whole time.
Turns out, you don't need to wear a lot of black socks
when you live in a swamp.

Those cute spies?
They're fired.




2 comments:

  1. I used to want to be a spy, after I saw the movie Harriet the Spy. I even had a spy notebook.

    Glad you found your dress! And I'm glad you didn't decide to go to Iraq to look for it :)

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  2. Yeah, that would have been a wasted trip...

    ReplyDelete