My ATM card disappeared.
I put on my Detective Cap, which resembles my Thinking Cap in size and color, and got to work on the investigation. I had last seen my card on top of my orange pant leg on my bed, so I looked on my pant leg first. No card. I lifted the pant leg and peered at my bedspread. The monkeys and hippos peered back. Moving my pajamas to the floor didn't help, nor did lifting my bedspread reveal anything, so I removed sleeping bags #1 and 2. When that hadn't uncovered my card, my pillows jumped off my bed, followed by my pillowcases, and all my stuffed animals. They looked innocent, even the wolf who acts as my accountant (he'll remain anonymous to protect his identity). I stripped off my sheets and pulled my bed from the wall. I found seashells, rocks, even an elephant on a key chain.
Where could my ATM card be? I checked my pockets and turned up nothing.
I called my bank to cancel my card and order a replacement. I told the customer service person I was embarrassed I had lost my card in my apartment. He said, "Don't worry about it. I do that kind of thing all the time."
After we hung up, I had to go to the bathroom. I got up from the toilet and then, glancing down, I noticed my ATM card floating in the water.
How it got there remains a mystery.
But I now can better appreciate the expression, "flush with funds."
Causes Eva Schlesinger Supports
Center For Young Women's Development
Alameda County Library Foundation