I’m Pretty Sure I’m Being Followed

The little creeps are everywhere. (And no, I’m not talking about my boys—this time.)

Remember how I discovered a stowaway Bakugan on the back of my van after work?

Well, come to find out — he wasn’t the only one.

Take a look at what I noticed as I was driving Husband’s car the other day. Look closely. You’ll see it. Just above the windshield wiper…

Oh, yes, all the Bakugan are getting into the act.

I let this dude continue to surf on the hood until I pulled into a convenience store and, with proper embarrassment befitting a mom-of-all-boys, plucked the magnetic toy from the car as fellow gas station patrons looked on rather quizically. Then I stuck it in my pocket and treated myself to a 32-ounce fountain pop. (Darnit, I deserved it!)

And if this weren’t enough, last week my brother-in-law brought over  a ton (literally) of leftover rock that is intended to go underneath our deck but will likely still be on the third pad of our driveway until the next snow thaws. As Husband and Bro-in-Law were standing in the back of his pickup, shoveling away, Husband reported that he saw yet another sneaky bastard Bakugan hiding on the roof of my van.

I never thought the law of magnetism could become so annoying.

Girl moms don’t have this problem, do they? I mean, you never see anyone driving along with Barbie unbeknowingly strapped to the rear bumper.

Oh, well. I’ll look on the bright side: It builds character, right? Or does it put hair on the chest? I’m not exactly sure which proverb fits here.

I’d prefer if it weren’t the latter, though.

I’ve got enough issues without having to worry about shaving the cleavage…

Like being stalked by creepy alien monster sphere transforming toy thingies.


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