I've made the choice to leave the hooded sweatshirt I wear for work at work, instead of taking it home or leaving it in the car. On Friday, most likely when I was freezing, I realized I couldn't find my sweatshirt. A little irritating, but I figured I just brought it home with me and forgot to bring it back.
This morning, one of the moms came in to work wearing the navy hooded sweatshirt that I rightfully stole from my dad ten years ago. She said nothing to me, walked around in it all day, and then spilled dressing on it. Generally speaking, I would rather die than have other people handle my clothes, and even if they do ask before taking them, it's rare when I allow it.
Oh yeah, she's going down.