The Missing Tombstone

Some things are never quite right. No matter how you work with them- coaxing, pleading, lecturing, things never add up. During my Halloween decoration frenzy, I had placed two Styrofoam tombstones into the ground. They were held into the ground with half a roll of duck tape and a half of a wire hanger.

One tombstone fell over. At first, it just leaned slightly, as though it was tired and wanted to lay down. Then it fell flat on it's face, the tape still surrounding the hanger. The tombstone was quite tricky. It would wait until the middle of the night to throw itself on the grass, so I would see it when I left for work all morning. The dsyfunctional tombstone would gnaw at me all day at work. Once home, I would rush to retape it and return it to it's proper place. I spent many nights squatted down in the damp grass, tapdancing around the ants who were attacking my toes.

I tried duck tape. I tried to tape the duck tape to the duck tape. I tried mail tape. I tried painters tape. I tried painters, clear and duck tape in a complex arrangement. Nothing worked. Every night, I would squat in the yard with itchy grass tickling my thighs. AFter securely taping the tombstone, I would march back inside happily. Then, I'd rush to my office window. Still standing. A few hours later, I'd come back and check. Still standing. The next morning, I'd peek through the shades. The tombstone would be laying face down in the grass. As my dear husband would say, "it showed it's ass."

This morning, the tombstone had fallen over. Again. I drove to work annoyed, knowing that I would have to fix the tombstone once again. This time, I'd wire the stupid thing. I drove home, fixed myself dinner, and walked outside with a roll of tape in my hand. The tombstone was gone.

I was quite confused. Where had it gone? Had Ben put it in the garage? I grabbed a flashlight and crept around the yard. Ignoring the chill in the air, I ran the flashlight over every inch of the yard. For good measure, I checked my neighbors as well. Nothing. The anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach had turned into full blown despair! Someone stole my tombstone!

It wasn't even that it was gone. It was $2. It was the fact my yard decorations were not off-kilter. I was missing part of what I had created. Some cretin had crept into my yard while I chomped and had stolen my tombstone!

Suddenly, I stopped. Maybe the tombstone wasn't stolen. Maybe it had run away! Perhaps the tombstone had crawled away to another yard. Maybe it was playing tricks on me. Tombstones are quite tricky, you know.

I'm not sure what happened to my tombstone. All I know is I have a desire to go to Walmart as soon as possible and buy another tombstone and make my little world right again. One can't have just one tombstone. Until then, I'll be on the watch for my tombstone around the neighborhood. After all, it couldn't have crawled too far.