At Least It Wasn't the Kitchen Sink

Monday was a helluva Monday. A Monday of epic proportions. It started off with KiKi puking at school and a phone call home to me to come pick her up. Not a big deal, I am immune to being rattled by kid's puke (you get puked on a couple time when you are working in a nursery and it kinda loses it's gross factor). So I go to pick her up, letting the workmen who were replacing the gas pipe to my house know that I would be back in 10-15 minutes tops and that they could continue to work as long as they didn't have to go in my house. Sorted.

I arrived home, puking child in tow, made her a place to lay down on the couch and positioned a bathroom sized trash can (with liner) in front of her in case of anymore upchucking. The men who were working on the gas lines then came inside and turned my boiler off and began the other parts of whatever the hell they were doing out there. I wasn't really paying attention. About two hours later they came inside to turn the gas back on and relight the pilot light on the boiler. The boiler wouldn't relight. So they told me to call my landlady and LEFT. They left me with no heat and no hot water. Just great! I call my landlady, who is goes completely off the rails because she wasn't notified by the gas company that they would be doing any work (rightfully angry and thankfully not at me) and she promises me that she will get back to me.

By this point KiKi is writhing in pain and grasping her abdomen and screaming cause it hurts. Plus she had upchucked two more times. I decide that it is time to go to the ER. Who knows it could be appendicitis with our luck around here. So I start making phone calls to arrange somebody to pick up LaLa from school. Then I hear a knock on my door. It is the landlady and she is telling me what she is going to do about the heat* (besides getting someone out the next day to fix it) and she hears KiKi in the back so she lets me go quickly. I pack up KiKi and head to the base to spend 3 hours in the ER to be told she has a virus and trapped gas in her tummy.

So, I get home that night and I get a phone call from my landlady.

LL- Hey Kat, where is your gate?
Me- What gate?
LL- The gate that goes across your driveway"
Me- Ummm...(thinking it is a trick question)..on the fence?
LL- Ummm...noooo
Me- Huh?
LL- Well I will call my dad and my husband and see if they know where it is...

So, my gate that goes on the fence that surrounds my property is missing...

She called me back today.

LL- Well, my father and husband don't know where the gate is so I guess it has been stolen.

Yes, thieves came I assume in the middle of the night and STOLE my gate.

*My landlady decided that she is going to replace the whole heating system in my house within the next month or two.