Is three dollars all a soul is worth these days?

Note the spring-action, perfectly molded spots for holding spare change in this picture of someone else's lucky car

Last week, as I rounded the corner of the McDonald's drive-thru for my little dose of crack cocaine happiness in diet coke form, I reached my hand down to grab some change to pay for the drink. As my hand repeatedly grasped only air, I looked down in horror to find that my change was missing.

Only not just my quarters, nickels, and dimes.


I immediately called the Husband and accused politely asked if he knew anything about it. He scoffed and wondered why on earth I would think he would want to take my change holder.

I interrogated the children when they got home from school and all three proclaimed their innocence to the point that I believed them.

What the eff?

Essentially, what I am left to conclude is this: Someone risked prison and their eternal salvation to steal a change holder right out of my car, netting themselves MAYBE three bucks in coin.

Leaving behind my iPod, and several scratched and scuffed Barbie movies to take my three dollars in change. Not to mention the meal in old french fries and crumbs they could have scooped from the floor of the backseat.

The change thievery I can forgive. But for the love of all that is holy, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO TAKE MY CHANGE HOLDER? I loved that thing. Might have been my favorite part of the car, what with its neat and tidy organization. The separation of coin by type and size. The spring-loaded mechanism that kept everything right in a row.


I am now forced to root around the bottom of my purse for spare change like a regular person when the craving for that ice-cold brown deliciousness strikes.

It's just wrong, I tell you. Wrong.