If you haven't read my last post, you might want to do that now. It contains the first part of this story. Here's the second part:
The case of the missing diaper bag left me feeling very unsettled. I talked to my neighbor and learned she had found the cup and the book in the street. A few minutes later, the neighbor drove off and found two of my board books at a nearby intersection. She brought them back to my house. We decided whoever took the bag must have started rooting through it and tossed out these inconsequential items. It seemed we might be able to follow a trail of baby belongings and ultimately find the bag.
I was so grateful that my wallet, phone, camera, and checkbook were stowed safely in a separate purse. The thief wouldn't find anything particularly valuable in the diaper bag, so we hoped the chances of recovering it were good.
Garry, who got home from work just after I finished my last post, received the news with as much incredulity as I felt. We felt mystified and violated. We contemplated calling the police but anticipated their laughter at such a silly report. I almost emailed the head of our neighborhood watch but opted to do it later. Garry and I still wanted to get on with our date! We jumped in the car and started scouring the streets, hoping to pick up the diaper bag trail.
Just a few blocks away, at the entrance to our subdivision, we spotted the bag! It was tucked behind some bushes, right next to a brick wall. If we hadn't been scouring for it, we never would have seen it. I jumped out of the car and snatched the bag, surprised that it was so full.
As we examined the bag, the truth quickly became apparent: there was no thief.
Though Tyler left diaper bag in the driveway, its strap must have caught in the van's sliding door. The cup and book most likely fell out when I backed out of the driveway. When I stopped at the first neighborhood intersection, two more books fell out (and I probably ran over them...they have some road rash). It seems the van dragged the bag five blocks, and then, when I stopped at a bigger intersection, the bag somehow fell free from the door's mighty grip. I drove on, oblivious, leaving the bag behind. Some kind soul probably saw the diaper bag and tucked it safely away where we would find it if we went looking.
The items I stowed in the outer pockets of the bag -- containers of formula and cereal, a spoon, a bib, a bottle, a binky -- are thrashed. The pockets are full of dirt, the plastic webbing from the straps is melted and torn, and the side pouches are torn. The interior contents -- extra clothes and diapers -- are perfectly preserved. I'm just glad to have my stuff back, ruined or not.
I am most grateful for the renewed sense of peace and security I feel now that I know the missing diaper bag was my fault! Thoughts of a creepy guy trolling my neighborhood streets made me very uncomfortable. I'm so glad this crazy experience just amounted to good blog fodder!
And hey, since I am now out one very functional diaper bag...can any of you recommend a great one?