When the Dog Walker read my original post, he thought maybe he would pull a fast one on my sweetie. So he took the poster down from the bathroom door and plastered it on the inside of my bedroom door. That way, when my sweetie went upstairs to exercise, he would be greeted by the grinning face of JB watching his every move.
|I've got my eyes on you!|
My sweetie was peacefully sleeping (or so we thought) on the bed. As I laid Baby Doll down in her crib, the Dog Walker shut the door. "What the…!?" I heard him say. "Shhh!" I whispered. "You’ll wake the baby. What’s the matter?" He looked confused. "It’s gone!" he stated. "What’s gone?" I asked somewhat irritated. I was more than ready for bed. "The JB poster," he whispered loudly. Now it was my turn to look confused. "I thought it was downstairs," I said. He grinned, "I thought Dad would want to see it," he said.
He stomped over to the wastebasket. "I bet he threw it away." He was clearly annoyed, but it wasn’t there. Then he looked in the bathroom trash. Nope, not there either. Then I looked at my sweetie lounging on the bed. His shoulders were shaking a little and he was trying not to laugh. "I bet Dad hid it from you," I suggested. Then, turning to the bed, I said, "Where is it, Dad?" He chuckled, "Where’s what?" he asked innocently.
So the Dog Walker started frantically searching the bedroom looking for his precious poster. Before he could tear my room apart, I said, "Did you look on the pocket door of our bathroom?" "No," he said, as he stomped in that direction. He pulled the door closed. Nothing. "On the inside?" I suggested. He stepped inside the bathroom, turned on the light and shut the door. "It’s not there!" he grumbled. My sweetie sat up in bed, "It’s not?" he asked. Crap, I thought. "Better go get a yardstick," I said.
|*Not actual door*|
Two minutes later the Dog Walker was back, noisily digging inside the pocket door, trying to retrieve the amazing JB. The baby started to fuss. "Maybe I better try to get it out in the morning," he suggested. "Good idea," I said. He hung his head dejectedly as he made his way back down the stairs. His funny joke had taken a drastic turn. The next morning the pocket door was closed. I pushed it open to do my business and I heard the crunching sound of paper. I think it’s safe to say that poor JB is now irretrievable, not even with a yardstick… "…like baby baby baby No! Thought you’d always be mine…"