We went to Target to spend Colin's Christmas gift cards. He decided he would save them. I decided I would do a jigsaw puzzle. I haven't completed a jigsaw puzzle probably since I was a small child helping Grandpa. I chose one from the clearance aisle that I thought was a 500 piece puzzle of a four season picture. I got it home, opened the box, opened the four bags inside (Who sees where this story is about to go wrong?), and dumped all the pieces into the box.
Jeepers, it seemed like a lot of pieces.
Huh. What a lot of edge pieces.
Wait. Brent found a fifth corner. That's . . . not . . . right . . .
And that's when I realized that I had just dumped the pieces of four 500 piece puzzles into one box. I almost started to cry.
No! This situation was not worth tears. I would simply go to my parents' house and get a puzzle there. I scraped a small square of ice away from my windshield and took the route there with the least amount of hills. Only they weren't home and I couldn't find a puzzle. Mother figures once she's done it, why save it. I see this.
Okay, Plan B. I would go to my in-laws. My mother-in-law would have one. I skated across town to her house, picked up three puzzles and skated home.
My mother-in-law gave me three of the hardest 500 piece puzzles I had ever seen. (Not true. I once saw a round puzzle that was all red.) They were all watercolors of dark trees and low lit cottages. No, no, no! This isn't what I wanted. I just wanted to do a little puzzle of bunnies.
You know. Like the one . . . I keep moving around in the -- huh -- basement. Shoot. There was one in the basement all the time.
I need to clean the basement.