Hey! Them things is worth money!

I can only guess how it got started. Jack was playing on the computer while I was doing laundry, then he quietly slipped away.
"Hey Jack, watcha doin'?" I called out. No answer. That ussually means he's up to no good, no good at all.

I wandered into the kitchen and found stamps stuck on the table, stamps on the chair, stamps on the pantry shelf and the counter, stamps everywhere. I tried to calmly explain that those weren't stickers, they're stamps. They cost money, more money than the stickers, and each and every single one was 2 cents (hey, there's no cent sign on the keyboard?) more expensive than they were just a couple of months ago. He kept saying "Sorry, Mommy," and who could be mad at that little face? I never was, really, I actually thought it was pretty funny. Rather, it was the thought of John coming home and finding stamps pasted all around the house like it was giant stickerbook that made me shiver me timbers.

Okay, it's not like he beats me or anything(not funny), but when it comes to matters of wallet, John gets a little testy. TESTY.

We cleaned up the scene of the crime, but I know that sooner or later, John's gonna be all, "Hey, Deb? Why are the stamps not so sticky, and why are they a looking a little roughed up?" See, I put them all back in the stamp book, but they never stick as well as they did the first time when they were spanking new. The adhesive suffers some kind of Post Tramatic Stress.

Well, I'll just have to wait and see what happens now. And buy some more stickers for Jack.