As you know, I have my wallet back in my possession. Despite my earlier statements that I’m purchasing some sort of device that will aid me in it’s recovery when it goes missing, after giving my vehement thanks to whatever gods there may be, I’ve pretty much gone back to normal in it’s regard.

When I first got it back, the lady who handed it to me said casually, “I broke your zipper, I’m afraid..” and I had a brief moment of heart palpitation as I took it from her and quickly inspected it. My mom bought me this wallet from Nordstrom probably over 10 years ago, and no other wallet has ever fit so perfectly into my hand and my lifestyle as well. In short, I LOVE this wallet, and whenever it goes missing, my first lament after the fact that, you know, all my money-getting-cards and info are now in the hands of who knows who, is that it is the PERFECT WALLET, and NOW IT’S GONE, WAAAAHHHH!

Now, I say that it’s perfect, but technically, this is not true. “Perfect” denotes that it is without any flaws or imperfections. That I find absolutely no fault with it. And sadly, I do have one minor complaint that makes it a teeny tiny bit less than perfect – it zips up from the wrong side. It really is a minor thing, and one would wonder how any “side” could be the “wrong” side to zip up from, but all I know is when I pick it up and unzip it I always then have to turn it around to get at the money/cards slots thing. Always. Unzip, flip. It’s always on the wrong side. It’s the way I unzip. But as you now know, this really is a petty little complaint. I love my wallet, love love love it. Even though it isn’t truly correct to say so, it’s perfect and none other have ever suited me as much as this one.

So the thought of the zipper being broken really did grab my heart with the icy grip of fear. Oh my god! What would I do if this wallet had finally gone kaput?! Even before the soft black leather touched my skin I had run through all the possible scenarios how bad it could be and even if it really was broken, I could always have the zipper replaced (and they could put it in the opposite way too!).. I checked it out and saw that the zipper was fine, though some bits of paper from a receipt had gotten zipped into the threads and had caused it to pucker open. This has happened to me countless times (because I keep way too much shit in my wallet) and is easily remedied. You merely grab the zipper handle thingee and yank it over the caught paper really hard. Then pick out the paper bits and zip it up normally. Relief. My wallet was fine. Oh happy day! Oh, and of course, it was found and not lost and all that jazz, yadda yadda yadda.

As I mentioned, after the initial elation, I have largely forgotten about my wallet. Today, I took a moment to open it up, sort through all the receipts and paper bits therein and toss anything that needed tossing. While I had everything out, I careful looked at the zipper, and seeing there were still itty bitty paper bits stuck in the zipper, unzipped it as far as it could go and picked them all out. For the first time in 10 years, I realized that while the zipper is sewed quite firmly to the wallet .. the end isn’t sewed down to anything. THe wallet makers simply stuck the extra 2 inches of zipper length into a (non-sewed shut) opening in the middle where the zipper begun on one side, and ended on the other. I pulled the end of the zipper out and contemplated. I pulled the other end out and pondered some more.

Could this be this easy? To just switch the zipper head thingee (what ARE those things called??) around and have it go the other way? After ten years I could have the PERFECT WALLET in 1 minute of work? What if after I pulled the zipper head thingee off, I couldn’t get it back on the zipper again? I did a little testing and then tossed in the towel and just did it.

Now my zipper zips up the opposite way. Now when I unzip it, the correct side (with the money and the cards) is facing me and I don’t have to flip it around.

I truly have THE PERFECT WALLET!!!

Now that this has been accomplished, I REALLY don’t want to lose it. So I wrote a little message on the back of my business card to any would-be-finder of the wallet.

And I put it where I think it’ll be seen. After they dig through all the receipts that I’m sure will be occupying the center space.

I should still look into wallet finder thingees though.

Ethan came home from kindergarten one day last week and confided in me,

“Mommy, we’re not allowed to kiss other people.”

I thought that over, and how when kids are very young, hugs and kisses are wonderful, of course, but as they get older, they need to learn to respect other people’s personal space. Kindergarten is probably the right time for this sort of rule.. though I do remember the “kissing” games played when I was in K and 1st grades on the playground.

I was thinking all this over and remembering my “first kiss” and my little “boyfriend” from 1st grade as I started telling Ethan how kisses are personal and it’s a good rule because as you get older, some people might not want to be kissed, when Ethan interupted my thoughts.

“But I kiss Jeni sometimes.”

This took me off guard a bit.

“You do?”

“Yes. In the sandbox. Sometimes we get married.”

“You do.”

“Yup.”

James also wrote about these glad tidings over on his blog.

Sometimes you walk around all happy.

Like a big happy beachy bouncey ball. Things are fun and it’s fun to be excited about things. The very act of being excited is fun. Like the way a child can be so excited about the world around them – It’s fun to have that kind of excitement. Like a happy bouncey ball.

And then something happens to puncture the happy ball.

The ball deflates. It’s not happy. The thought of being excited about anything is stupid and depressing. It doesn’t matter what. Things no longer are fun. Being excited is no longer fun.

It can happen quickly, without any warning. And then the ball loses it’s happy bounce. It deflates until it’s a sad, flat, weird looking piece of rubber just laying on the floor.

Sometimes it’s not quickly. Sometimes there’s just a teeny pin sized hole in the happy bouncy ball. And the ball can be bouncy for a long time. Never noticing that it doesn’t bounce just quite so high and doesn’t feel quite so happy. UNtil one day, it’s a sad piece of plastic laying on the floor wondering why it would rather lay there than bounce. And look weird.

I feel deflated.

It would be nice to just lay on the floor and look weird.

Don’t you think?

… the prodigal wallet has (been) returned. All was intact, including $15 bucks in cash.

We killed the fatted calf and made merry. The wallet that never strayed sulked and wondered what outrageous thing he should do to get some attention around here. We ignored it and slathered more attention on the wayward-but-now-has-returned-to-the-path wallet.

OK, not really, but I did stop on my way home from picking it up for ice cream. Please, everyone, come attend my seminar on How-To-Save-Your-Marriage-With-Extra-Thick-Chocolate-Shakes. It’s a winner. The jist of it is, bring ice cream. DO NOT say ANYTHING along the lines of, “See, I told you it would turn up, all that screaming until you were hoarse was for NAUGHT,” if you really want the effects of the ice cream to take effect.

I need to get that keyringer thingee.

the summation:

• we left thursday for jellystone park, a campground (with cabins! that have AC! and showers! they also have tent campsites too. But guess which one we picked!) with all sorts of fun things to do like a humgous waterslide, 2 pools, mini golf, paddle boats (on a very small, and somewhat swampy pond) and a huge field and play ground. Oh, and it’s by Luray, with all that has to offer. We camped (cabin-style!) swam, golfed, swam, went underground to gaze at huge stalactites/malagnicryptonitites, mini golfed, wandered and got lost in hedge mazes*, saw animals, petted animals, swam, ate ice cream, mini golfed and swam. And went on a wagon ride with Boo Boo. We left for home on Sunday.

*ok there was just one, and i was the only one to get lost, but i got out eventually. see? here i am, writing this. proof.

• swam at our own pool
• lost my wallet. AGAIN. Those of you who have been following our heroine for some time will know that she is notorious for this activity. Usually, she confines it to wallets. But she has been known to lose her keys as well (if you’re going to just read one of those links, choose the keys one, because it’s funny. the wallet one is just depressing). She has been known to take Losing Things to epic proportions. She also seems to think that talking about herself in the third person will somehow take away the shame of the latest loss, which is STILL ONGOING. That’s right folks. It’s still lost. Constant monitoring of the bank activity is ongoing, but other than ordering a replacement driver’s license (which can be done online, thank GOD) and carrying her husband’s credit card around, the wait to see if it turns up continues. Please cross your fingers for her. And your toes. And by the way, go look around manassass for it would you please because our heroine is looking at imminent divorce for this “habit” of hers and despite her insistence that “it ALWAYS TURNS UP!” her husband is not buying it and is growing quite bored distraught shrill interested in divorce lawyers… let’s just say he’s not happy.
• took the kids to their first day of school. not too big a deal for jocelyn, as she moves across the hall from her old class, and her old teacher was in the classroom when we arrived. Much bigger deal to Ethan, who….

  STARTED KINDERGARTEN TODAY.

  I actually wondered if he realized if this was a big deal, as he is still at the same school he’s always been for the last 2 years, just in their private kindergarten now. I was a big dumb dumb, because he has pointed out the ways he knows this is a big difference in several ways this morning:

  “Daddy, I’m going to learn how to READ and WRITE AND SPELL!”
  “Mommy, Kindergarteners go on FIELD TRIPS! I’M GOING TO GO ON FIELD TRIPS!”
  “Mommy I’m five! I’M A KINDERGARTENER! I CAN’T WAIT! I’M FIVE!”

  A couple of kids were naturally squeamish on leaving their parents’ arms to venture into the classroom, but Ethan leaned way back, made a “pweeeeeooohhhhh!” sound, ran in place for a few steps and then took off into the room. That is my son. The epitome of my son. The kindergartener. HE’S FIVE.

• Just in case you missed it, my wallet is out there. Just longing to be returned to me. Do your duty and go find it, would you? I’ve already tried, TRUST ME. I am looking into this keyringer device that may perhaps save my marriage one day, as it is now hanging by a thread.

More pictures of cryptonitites, goats, mini golf, first day of school to come this week. No hedge mazes though. Or wallets.