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Nothing quite as relaxing as running from a murder charge

So I took the day off work so I could get my family ready for this vacation.  By the end of the day, I actually feared my “vacation” was going to turn into something else entirely. More of an “on the lam” kind of episode rather than a relaxing respite from my life.

One of the imperative things I needed to accomplish was to pick up My Honey’s suit from the dry cleaners. I took it in on Monday and stressed what day it needed to be ready. They assured me it would be ready the night before.

I dropped the kids off at school and went there first thing this morning.

No suit.

I reiterated that it MUST be done today. The manager called the “plant” and they said they held it back because of a stain on the tie. They promised to have it ready by early afternoon. I sighed deeply and left with the assurance they would call my cell phone the minute it was available.

After lunch around 1:30 I dropped in again even though the manager hadn’t called. Still no suit and I could tell by the surprised look on her face that she’d forgotten all about it. She launched herself at the phone and called the plant again. I put on my angry eyes and told her to tell “the plant” that, as far as I was concerned, they could throw the tie in the dumpster. I didn’t care about the tie. I could buy a new tie. I could not, however, buy a new suit this afternoon. The manager repeated my speech almost word for word to the kidnapper of the suit. They didn’t get the full effect of my glare over the phone, but she managed to relate some manner of my menace to the person on the other end.

She swore on a stack of coupon books that the suit would be there around 2:30. She showed me that she still had my cell number. She told me there would be no charge due to the screw up.

I picked up the kids at 3:15 and still no call. I went to get gas for the car and planned to stop there afterwards and scowl at them until someone showed up with the damn suit. I also planned to bring the children and let them fight in the store. I figured if my scowling didn’t prompt them into immediate action, the sound of Sassy and The Bandit bickering would drive them to it out of desperation.

Fortunately for the dry cleaners, I did not have to murder anyone. The suit showed up – clean as a whistle. The tie, too. All will be well.

Best of all, now the dry cleaner is terrified of me.

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