This is a Stickup

Dear House,

Please give me back my tennis shoe.

I get it. It's a nice shoe. I really like it to, in fact, I like it so much that it has really been bothering me that I can only find one.

I thought it might be in my messy room, so I cleaned and vacuumed and mopped every inch of it.

Nope. Not there.

I ransacked my closet thinking that my shoe might be behind something in there.

Nope. Not there.

I figured as my children have a strong inclination towards stealing my shoes and wearing them around and about that my shoe might be hidden under their bed.

Nope. Not there either.

House, what have you done with my shoe? Did it somehow make it into laundry rotation and now you are going to make me catch up on laundry only to have my missing shoe fall out of a pile of dirty clothes that have been sitting in my basement just a *tad* bit too long?

Where is my shoe?

I know that the dog did not eat it, I would have found some sort of remnant. She cannot chew or digest rubber and I would have found evidence of such. It is a neon pink Hello Kitty Vans.

Where is it?

This is your warning, spit my shoe back out of your hidden abyss so I can wear them and enjoy how awesome and comfortable they are as a pair.That's right. As a pair. I have two feet.

This is a stickup for my shoes. Don't make me get dirty cleaning you up and down looking for one single shoe. I'll go there. Seriously. I'm not messing around.

Sincerely,

Michelle