I toast it, it was delicious, and when I got home for lunch, I decided to go bread crazy and eat a sandwich. I reached for the bread and it wasn't there. I looked by the toaster, I looked by the bananas, I looked in the cupboard and in the fridge and it was gone.
Half a loaf of bread disappeared and as far as I knew, no one had been home between my breakfast toast and my lunch sandwich. I looked in the yard for any evidence of the bag, as in, our dogs have been known to drag whole loafs of bread outside to gorge themselves and remnants of the plastic bags always remain, but no chewed up bag was to be found. I went upstairs in case a kid was actually home, which has been known to happen when one didn't feel good and didn't feel like going all the way back to his house, he just crashed on the couch upstairs and I got a prickly feeling all morning that someone was in the house with me but was actually too freaked out to go upstairs to check, but this time I sent the dogs upstairs first, then slowly crept up the dark stairway (burned out light bulbs don't you know) and it was empty.
Okay, someone came in and stole our bread. When the kids came home they laughed at this, and quickly pointed out that I should feel sorry for the person that needed that half loaf of bread so badly they didn't take anything else, and my son was quick to add, that bread is super disgusting so that poor thief actually didn't get a good steal at all.
I bought another loaf and life continued on, except for that nagging question of where that bread disappeared to....
Which, turns out, was the saran wrap drawer. Worse, I must have opened and closed that drawer getting out chip clips, sandwich baggies, tin foil, and never once noticed a loaf of bread. Luckily, it survived its confinement in the drawer without any flattening and still will make a very nice piece of toast.
Case closed!
Case closed!
LOL That kind of stuff happens to me, too. Fun story!
ReplyDeleteThis is too funny. My husband does this kind of thing all the time. When he asks me where something is, I don't even respond. I wait until he notices it staring at him in the face.
ReplyDeleteThough bread in the saran wrap drawer is slightly less disturbing, this story nevertheless reminds me of the time I found my diaphragm in the dish drainer. Twenty years later and I STILL haven't pieced that one together.
ReplyDelete