A little over a week ago, Tessa went to her third senior prom. Unfortunately, I really only planned for one prom, so she was forced to squeeze the other two into a full schedule. The second prom was on Tayden’s play weekend and Taryn’s final concert for college. The third was on the day that we laid my brother-in-law, Gottfried’s ashes to rest. I wasn’t going to miss Goff’s final goodbye, and neither was Tessa or any of my kids. Tessa actually sang a song at the gravesite that she wrote and dedicated to Goff at our school’s talent show. She won that show. I will never know how she kept it together.

So, on that Saturday morning, we were up very early to drive to Illinois. As most of you know, I always do Tessa’s hair for dances. That day, I packed a bag full of curling irons, bobby pins, various hair bands, and a myriad of hair products. My niece and her husband, Christy and Marc, were kind enough to offer their sprawling Wheaton house for a family party after the gathering at the grave site. After the gravesite ceremony and an hour or so of socializing at the party, Tessa and I commenced to the master bathroom for the showdown with her hair.

When I do hair, I take over every horizontal space, and that day was no exception. The only difference this time was that I had my sisters and sisters-in-law there to cheer me on, if you can call it that. It was like a three ring circus going on. They were all sitting along the tub. I was pulling and curling, my stuff scattered everywhere. Isn’t there a saying that smart people don’t keep a neat desk? Well, I don’t know if I’m exactly smart, buy I follow that rule just to be safe. I also apply it to when I do hair…just to be safe. I picked an easier hair style (same as prom 2) in anticipation of the crazy that was possible at a Weizeorick family party. Turns out I was right, so maybe I am just a little bit smart.

Anyway, when I finished, I shooed her back to Indiana with Travis, as her third prom was back at Valparaiso High School. I stayed at Christy and Marc’s to enjoy the family I left behind in Illinois. After the curling irons cooled, I swept everything into my “Mary Poppins” bag and thought nothing of it. Well, a couple days ago, I was emptying that bag (apparently I don’t need curling irons much in my daily life), and I came across a couple Starbucks cards. I vaguely recalled grabbing them off the bathroom floor at Christy’s. It’s not that rare for me to have Starbucks cards. Occasionally, Travis’ patients give them to him as a gift. I take them because he will never remember to use them. He’s more of a Dunkin Donuts kind of guy anyway…not surprising for a guy that wears jeans and boots to work. He argues, “They didn’t hire me for my wardrobe.” So, over a week after the fact, I have to text my niece because it has occurred to me that these cards may not be my cards. In fact, I am not sure why I would have cards in that particular bag…in fact, the odds are that they aren’t my cards…in fact, the chances that they are mine are infinitesimally small, which makes me that person that steals gift cards from a house when I am there as a guest.

So, I texted Christy. Yup, they were her cards. I stole them. I was mortified. She was laughing. I am left to wonder what she thought happened to those two Starbucks cards that she left in her bathroom before the Haldeman tsunami took over. Am I old enough to be that person that steals jam, salt, and coffee creamer from restaurant tables? I have always planned to become that person, I just didn’t realize I was already there. Fortunately, thanks to modern technology, I was able to immediately return her Starbucks balances. I just took a picture of the backs of the cards and Christy was able to move the remaining balances to her electronic Starbucks account. Who knew? I always just keep the cards. Maybe I am old. Anyway, watch your things when I visit. Apparently, I am capable of stealing without even knowing I am doing it.