Missing

This is brief because I am in search of a solution; for my perpetual toddler. OI!  She will put me in the ground before I turn .... older. ; )

As most of you know or have experienced personally; my Nubian Princess, Birdie has WS: Wynona's Syndrome.  She's a klepto; a pickpocket and a sneak.  I suppose it is our own fault (as most parents blame themselves when the problem has progressed) When she came to us, so mistreated and abused, we understood that she would hoard.  However, we only now see the magnitude of her distress.  Here are some instances:

My father had come for a nice visit and was packing up to leave.  He began a hunt for his brush that lasted a good twenty minutes until I was brought into the loop that he was "missing" something.  Upon checking the cave of the suspect, I turned up with it.  She was caught, red pawed with the handle ALMOST in her mouth but the look that came was one of:

 "WHA???? I would NEVER bite this.  It is Pop pop's and we love him.  I was PROTECTING it from the chubby sloppy one who sleeps over there and snores a lot." (I guess I forgot to mention she dimes her brother out regularly.)

 I want to explain to her that healing an addiction comes with the first step: admission.

Next we have the ongoing book bag battle.  This involves my son.  Daily, regardless of where we hide or hang it, she riffles through it, steals his wallet and gnaws on it.  It is thick leather so it must just be frickin DELICIOUS.  I had no idea.  I am going to send that tidbit to Survivorman.  If you are stranded? Your leather wallet can double as jerky.

Of course we can NOT skip my daughter.  WS strikes usually at dusk here.  The criminal will sneak into the bathroom, nose-open the shower door and steal: shampoo, razors, and her personal favorite; soap.  Although bubble-farts ARE funny and DO in fact stink less than regular "air biscuits" ( It brings whole new meaning to Coast's catch phrase: it IS an eye opener all right....) it is frustrating to hear the incessant crunching noise coming from  Ali Babba's cave knowing full well, she's enjoying the not so fruits of her "labor"

And at last, the assault of assaults.  Mine.  She has discovered that she enjoys my bathroom immensely.  It is apparently a jungle gym crammed full of tasty delicacies.  Why just the other day, she climbed up on the garden tub, walked a narrow edge to the corner sink where she jumped and "went shopping"  She got my toothbrush, some make up, MY brush (she gave Pop pop's back begrudgingly and with only a few distinguishing marks.), a small lotion and toothpaste.  THEN after stashing that for later, she went BACK and opened the cupboard where she tilted the trash, stole some old dryer sheets, a boogie tissue and ... .an entire PACK of soap bars.  In the process she knocked over the blue mouthwash and it spilled all  over the counter.  I have the FRESHEST, MINTIEST bathroom on the block. Firetruck.

Thank you Birdie.

And she sat quietly in her tiny dark cave with all her loot and loved us.  When I called, she refused to come. It was the dead give away that she's been prowling. Silence.  Upon discovery, she lowered her ears and gave the most beautiful "doe eyes" nosing my mascara back to me as consolation.  I thought I heard her chuff "Winston had it" .

But I can't seem to find him...he's miss...
DAMMIT BIRDIE!



Silliness.
We'll catch up after we use up all the sun in store for us this weekend.  Enjoy and thank you for coming by to see me.  I appreciate it.