Bird in Hand Farm

Bird in Hand Farm is an imaginary place.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

We lost the dog food.

Darwin's dry food lives under the kitchen table.  When I went to feed him breakfast this morning, it was gone.   It was not on the counters either.  Sometimes, it gets left up there.  We both go on a search for the bin.  The bin is not small.  It measures 14" tall, by 9" wide, by 5" deep.  It should be easy to spot.
It is not in any of the cabinets.
It is not outside.
It is not in the refrigerator or either freezer.
It is not in the dining room, living room, bathroom, sewing room, or either bedroom.
It is not in the basement.
It is not in the oven.
Darwin is not bright enough to hide it.
There is no evidence of spontaneous combustion.
There is no evidence that he ate the whole thing.  In fact, he sleeps through the entire search, blissfully unaware that his food is missing.
Where the heck is it?  We were robbed and all they took was the dog food?

Finally, we decided that the kid must have moved it.  She does wacky stuff.  Well, she did not like being blamed one bit.  She marches into the kitchen, goes straight to the table, lifts the Farmer's coat that is hanging over the back of a chair, and there it is.  Between the coat and the cat sleeping under the table, it was invisible.  I swear I looked under there at least 3 times.  Oops.
Someone smart once said: "It is better to be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."

If you have read this far, you  know.  I am a fool.

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