Break In

It's happened again - my house has been broken into. This is not your usual "smash and grab", it's more of a "clean and repair". I remember the first time it happened a few months ago. I came home, tired, dejected and sad. Something in the house just felt different. I walked around a little bit trying to discern what it could be and then it hit me "This house has been cleaned". Not in the creepy-old-lady-in-Poltergeist cleaned but actually picked up, vacuumed, dusted and wiped down. I remember walking by my bed and thinking "I don't remember making my bed this morning" but I had been in such a fog that I couldn't remember much of anything.

And so it's been happening for the last few months. I'll come home to find mysterious things. A gift card to the grocery store on the counter, a new wheelbarrow on the front porch, a security door installed, vacuum marks on the carpet.  Sometimes I can figure out who was responsible but most times everyone just smiles and shrugs their shoulders.

To think how I would manage without these break-ins is unthinkable. The way it lifts my mood and spirits cannot be overstated. It restores my faith in humanity and gives me the strength to go on.

I got a call yesterday from one of these scoundrels and she said, "I have good news and I have bad news. Which do you want first?" I've been in sort of a dark place lately, obviously, so I said "Bad News". 

"I got bleach spots on one of your bathroom rugs".

"And the good news?" I asked.

"Your shower has been scrubbed with bleach." 

I still don't see the bad news in that scenario.