Something kind of like this.
Gianna had been asking after her playhouse recently, so yesterday, Jill called her two friends that own a pickup truck and asked if they could take it from the old house to the new.
No problem! The two girls lifted it up, loaded it on and took off for Jill's, which is probably a 10-15 minute drive on Interstate 4.
Jill heard them pull up and was making her way through her garage to meet them out front when she heard:
"Where the F*** is the house? Where the F*** is the house? How can it not be here?"
Jill met their bewildered faces with a look of shock of her own.
They said they'd loaded it on the truck.
But where is it?
Apparently it pulled one of these while doing 65 mph.
At this point Jill didn't know whether to laugh or cry. How that heavy house could have blown from the back of that truck is a mystery to me.
What's even more of a mystery is how two women could be so freakin' oblivious that they didn't notice a huge plastic house had blown out of their truck!
*Oh look behind us! A 50 car pile-up! I wonder what they hit? Ooh, what is that? Holy shit, it's a big plastic house in the middle of the highway! How'd that get there? Wait. Didn't we have a big plastic house in our truck? Nah, can't be ours.*
You know what I did when Jill told me this story, right?
Oh yeah, I laughed my damn ass off.
Because really. Who else does this kind of crap happen to other than Jill?
Jill later called to tell me that the house had been located, and in various pieces along the side of I-4, but seemed to be unbroken. She wanted to know what I thought the girls should do.
Should they pick up all the pieces and bring them back to Jill?
Again, guess what my answer was.
No, you damn idiot!
Addendum*** Just got off the phone with Jill. The girls did in fact go back and pick up the pieces. On the side of the interstate!
Idiots, all of em!