The Story that is My Life

I have been searching high and low for my backpack for probably the last hour. It has some homework in it that I took to winterfest and didn't do. I looked downstairs, and I looked in my room. I looked in the bathrooms, and in the other rooms and I couldn't find it.

Before I go on, I should inform the reader of the state of my bedroom. It is a disaster in four walls. There are clothes, guitars, Mr-8's, calendars, amplifiers (okay, so maybe just one--but it's so awesome I like to pretend it's numerous), suitcases and Listerine Pocket Strips all strewn about the floor. Very messy, because I had spent 9 days away, and then came back home for a turnaround weekend in Tennessee. Laundry hasn't been done, and unpacking hasn't even began short of rummaging through the suitcase from Gatlinburg for clean clothes to wear to the movies tonight.

So I am looking desperately for my backpack. I know I put it into the trunk when we drove back from Plymouth. So I asked my mom and brother if they were my backpack where they might be. Neither knew.
I went to the bathroom, and Drew was nice enough to go outside and check the trunk of the car. He came back up and I asked if he'd had any luck and he didn't respond. He started helping me look downstairs and all around to see if we could find my backpack.

I came back into my room, and sat down on the floor and started scanning through the disaster. I asked him, "am I crazy? Is my room really that messy that I can't even find my own back pack?" and I start scanning the floor and looking behind things. Drew is standing in front of me and he begins to snicker. He points behind me and right next to the door, behind my unpacked suitcase is my backpack.

I immediately start laughing--because it's really quite funny. And then I beg him not to tell my mom that it was right be the door the entire time. Because I'll surely get a crack about how I need to clean my room (which I'm well aware of, but just haven't done yet). Drew leaves the room, and it dawns on me that he's not going back to his room, but to tell my mom about the backpack. So I take of running down the hall yelling "la la la la la la la" so she can't hear Drew. But I'm laughing too hard, he tells her between giggles.

They both take their fair share of cracks at me. And then, (I can't really remember how) it's revealed that Drew had brought my bag in from the trunk and put it by my door while I was in the bathroom! So not only did they both know about it, but they had both succeeded in heinously embarrassing me! I just laid on the floor, laughing, relieved that my messy room hadn't actually swallowed a 20 pound backpack.

Oh man, I got Punk'd.