Tempting Fate

I could empty my car out every day (if I ever got that fanatical) and still, each night, it would look as if - well, as if two young children had carried stuffed animals, ice cubes, cracker packages, stickers, extra layers of clothing, dolls, hats, sunglasses, napkins, milk, drawings, blankets, jewelry and even rubber gloves into it (Maggie is lately enjoying pretending she is a food service worker, so, yes, rubber gloves). Couple that with the fact that in order to prolong the life of each pair of exercise shoes I have, I wear them only when I am teaching Jazzercise. This means that I wear one pair of shoes to class, then change into my "good" shoes for class and back out of them after class. So, my "good" shoes (usually 2 or 3 pairs), my microphone case, the makeup that I have to put on to teach (really) and a supply of bottled water are always in my car. In addition, I am usually in the car when I pick up the newspapers and mail. If I have the kids with me at the time, my arms are often too full of toddler to worry about the mail when I get home, so it stays in the car. And, today I went to Costco - so there are 4 jars of applesauce, a huge box of oatmeal, and 3 pounds of coffee in there, too. I pull children's coats from the floor of the backseat to cover whatever I have on the front seat. Last night, in North Portland, I parked my wheeled stuff-lugger by a business that was surrounded by razor wire, so clearly the area was "safe..." (And, Linda, only you know the other dumb trick I pulled at that point...) I go about believing that the junk in my car is enveloped by good karma/a bright aura/a strong force field that will prevent it from ever being pilfered by a ne'er-do-well. Of course, now that I have written this, the Universe has been officially notified that I am aware of the situation. So, I guess I'd better empty it out for real tomorrow or almost certainly find my car with a broken window before the end of the weekend.