The husband can be heard muttering the above title to this post especially when he finds his "stuff" has been moved or disturbed.
I chant the same thing at the grandchildren. "Is that yours?" I ask. "No? Then did you ask permission to use it?"
These conversations seems to be a routine around here. Usually they ask. It has been drilled into them and we believe it teaches them a little respect for other people's possession. Don't take for granted you can use things that are not yours and usually in this day and age it's electronic related "stuff" which is very expensive to replace should it become damaged. I, of course, ignored this when it came to my sisters' clothing that I thought should be community property. I still remember the small skirmishes over a pair of shoes or a blouse.
Thieves? Hopefully this training will carry on to prevent them from becoming thieves someday. It amazes me to find my car ransacked should I neglect to lock it up while its sits in my carport. Your bicycle will no longer be parked on your carport in the morning should you neglect to move it to the patio behind the locked six ft. privacy fence. "If it's not yours, DON'T TOUCH IT". I know some adults that apparently didn't get this lesson or chose to ignore it and always find themselves doing a dance with those that are sworn to maintain order and justice. Each one of them have an excuse at the ready for why they thought they didn't have to follow the rules and you know what they say about excuses don't you? Yeah, I thought so....
It's 0500 and the SEC won the BCS...Roll Tide! and I'm sitting here sipping my first cup of coffee and watching the weather channel. Eventually that cup of coffee will kick in and I'll retain some of the information scrolling across the screen and formulate a plan on how I will spend this day.
Pat wants to be accompanied to Breaux Bridge to drop off her CPU and monitor. Let's get it done early as those storms crossing Texas should be here today. Lots of rain settle on the roads and with all the oil around here, the roads can become as slick as coal country roads with all that coal dust that turns into grease when moisture is added.
Once while in southern WV, a part of the country I wasn't accustomed to visiting, I did a full donut in the road while learning a lesson about wet coal dust.
It's time for my second cup of coffee. I'll soon be collecting Carrie from her house to wait with at her bus stop.
I'm off and running. Now where did I put that sweat shirt? It's a bit nippy here this morning.