Baby Ruth is missing!
I saw her only yesterday, and now she is gone. Gone! In the place she last resided is nothing. Nothing! Zilch. Nada. Zero. Zero! Literally, a big zero. Actually, it's a little Zero. Candy bar. The white fudgy coating wrapped around caramel, peanut, and almond nougat. In the silver and blue wrapper. Not my companion of choice, but she'll do.
While Baby Ruth is tall and nutty, rough around the edges, always on the verge of falling apart...Zero is petite, smooth, and evenly composed. It's just as well. A little Zero goes a long way.
But where is Baby Ruth? I stop by to see her several times a week, but only invite her back to my room a couple of times a year. No need for us to have a 9:30 rendezvous when I will be called to lunch at 10:53.
I'll admit that I did not check on Baby Ruth this morning. I simply assumed she was there. I had other business, like dropping The Pony off at Newmentia to take his ACT, then traveling all across Hillmomba for the weekly groceries. I thought Baby Ruth was safe. Because when I returned, the door was locked. Locked!
The main door to the Newmentia facility was locked up tighter than the cabinet where my best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel stored her rulers and glue sticks. I felt betrayed. I saw the ACT facilitator unlock one door. Followed her in, even. I simply assumed the door was unlocked. Did not a chain of testees (heh, heh, I said testees) roll in right behind me?
Yet when I returned from my shopping trip, all doors were locked. I tried every one across the front face of Newmentia. You can review the surveillance video. But don't read my lips. Thank the Gummi Mary, I know my entry code now for the keypad. Yep. I learned it two weeks ago when I and some fellow dummkopfs asked to be told it again at the faculty meeting. It's really not all that hard to remember. It's...GOTCHA! You didn't think Mrs. Hillbilly Mom was going to reveal classified information, did you? That's not her style.
Anyway, all signs point to Baby Ruth's abduction and subsequent replacement as being an inside job.
And now, Zero and I have some business to attend to.
When I was a child, my family would spend summers at a lake called Chaweva (short for Charleston, West Virginia). My sister and I would go to the pier and always buy a frozen Zero bar that came with a wooden popsicle stick stuck in it. Off we would go on a hot summer morning mouthing our way threw a true zero bar until we could hit the end of the pier and hit the water.
ReplyDeleteKnancy has apparently not had the best candy bar in its frozen state--Milky Way bars.
ReplyDeleteI hope you catch the culprit soon...
knancy,
ReplyDeleteMmm. A West Virginia delicacy the likes of which were unknown to my childhood Missouri palate.
****
Sioux,
I am partial to frozen Snickers. They crack like toffee when bitten.
Alas, not even a ransom note from the Baby Ruth culprit. Where were YOU, Madam, on October 26th between the hours of 8:30 and 10:45 a.m.?
through -jeez -that is embarrassing.
ReplyDeleteknancy,
ReplyDeleteHere at the Hillbilly Mansion, we politely look away from proofreading errors from our commenters. In fact, some folks might say that word should be "commentors." My blog, my rules. You never know when somebody has sent something from a not-too-smart phone that has autocorrected them without their knowledge.
Why, just the other day I tried to text the #1 son about The Pony taking the ACT, and my devilish phone changed a word I can't remember to SPANK. Seriously. That is messed up. Thank the Gummi Mary, I caught it before I sent it.
Thank you.
ReplyDelete