Purple haze of frustration

[I'd had maybe a dozen more experiences with wearing the purple tights with a "happy ending."  Despite gaining a little more height and weight, they still fit... although not as well as I would have wanted.  I didn't have much choice, though.]

* * * * * * * *

We've moved.

I didn't want to, as I loved my room and the house.  The new house we have moved to has left me with a slightly smaller room.  My sister got the bigger room.  Apparently it was "her turn" for the more desirable room, despite the fact that I'm the oldest and more responsible one.  There was also the argument that her wardrobe is bigger than mine.  Anyway... after a while, I dropped my side of the argument and sought to look at the benefits of my room.  First and foremost, it is further away from my parent's bedroom, which is a big benefit for more privacy.  Second, I have a better view of the back yard and the nicer house next door.  Also, with the location of the staircase, I have a much better route of escape from my sister's room; right to the bathroom, without being seen.  From my room, it is easy to see the doorway from the staircase, and so that makes it very hard to make a visit and escape without being caught.

After we settled in with all furniture and personal items placed where they should be, I waited for the moment when I could check out my sister's tights drawer and get a little comfort from my stretchy nylon friend.  I struggled with the intention, though.  I want to be a normal kid!   If only the feelings would stay away.  But they wouldn't...

I sneaked into Nina's room and pulled open the lower drawer of her dresser.  What is this?  Uh oh... the drawer contents have changed quite a bit.  My sister has fewer tights in there.  Perhaps mom cleared out ones she didn't wear any more?  Oh, NO!!  The purple tights are gone, nowhere to be found.  I search all of her drawers.  Nothing.  They are gone.  GONE.  Oh, how stupid could I have been.  If she hardly ever wore them, I could have taken them and hid them away in my toolbox.  Most likely my mom wouldn't have remembered them or could care less any way because Nina never wore them any more.  Dammit!  I've done it again.  First the blue tights and now the purple ones.  I am such a loser!



Well, my only hope is that she put them in a box somewhere.  The attic is more difficult to access (pull down ladder, rather than walk-in), and a bit spooky, but then it's more private when rummaging around up there.  It'll probably be a few more weeks until we get settled in, before I've got some space and time to do my searches.