It's pouring today. I needed a few things from the neighborhood grocery and besides I look for opportunities to wear my rubber rain boots, which I love. Flip decided to go with me (since I have such cool boots) and we headed out with umbrellas.
The store had its umbrella pail next to the door. "I'm not falling for that again," I commented. "The last time I did, someone stole my umbrella."
The manager happened to be walking by and said, "I remember that. It was returned the next day."
He went to his special hiding place and produced three umbrellas, a green one and two black ones, one of which was mine!
I couldn't believe it.
"I decided to leave the bucket out for a few more days in case it rained again," he said. "It was down in the bottom."
"It wasn't there when I left the store that night," I said.
"I know. I looked, too, after I heard what happened. They sneaked it in there after the rain stopped." He shook his head in disbelief.
I guess the person who stole it believes that she isn't really a thief because she brought it back. The fact that she deprived its owner of something when it was needed seems to carry no weight. I really don't understand such reasoning, but I'm happy to have my umbrella back. It's much nicer than the one I bought to replace it.
"We're coming up in the world," I told Flip. "We're a three-umbrella family now."
