Okay, Miffy got the last laugh on me. Fine, Miffy. You win. Forget the rootbeer, forget the Tostitos (if THAT were at all possible). But forget all the teasing and snacking, because what it all comes down to is something horrible and terribly painful to me: Miffy cost me money.
You see, Saturday morning when I woke up I saw something odd in the back yard, so I wandered out there to check things out. And to my utter woe, I realized it was a shingle from my roof. Miffy ripped a couple of them off the roof, front and center where it was pretty noticeable. Which means I need to actually find someone to fix the problem and then PAY them because quite frankly, I’m not up to roof repair. Of course rain is predicted all week and you can actually see wood where the shingles are gone, so I cannot even put it off for a few days. Ratzen Fratzen windstorm.
Miffy, I hate you.
