A couple of weeks ago, I bought myself a new pair of sunglasses. Woo Hoo...I finally get myself something and they are ten dollar sunglasses. The previous pair, that I have kept for backup, are cheapo's too and almost coming apart. I also bought an oversized glasses case because the new sunglasses don't fit in regular ones. Last Friday I realized that I couldn't find the case that contained the new sunglasses. I have repeatedly looked for them and asked husband and difficult child if they had seen them. They always said no. Fast forward to today. I ask difficult child again and he tells me that he had seen the case BEHIND the couch. How it got there I have no idea.....at least at the time. He looks and sure enough, there's the case but no sunglasses. Now I'm racking my brain trying to figure out where I could have left them. As a side note of history....difficult child somehow lost a lense out of his good glasses and can't find his back up glasses. This evening, husband and difficult child are at husband's softball practice. I'm gathering up difficult child's nasty, smelly clothes off the bathroom floor to fling them into his room. Guess what I found! One of the ear pieces from my new sunglasses and one ear piece from difficult child's back up glasses wired together with fishing line. I'm so far beyond pi***ed, furious and angry. Yes, it was a pair of sunglasses...piddly stuff. But it's NINE YEARS of monthly, weekly, sometimes daily piddly stuff and not so piddly stuff. That all adds up and I can't take it anymore. I'm about | | <---- that far from pitching difficult child's nasty clothes into the front yard and locking the doors before they get home. I'm also that close to packing a bag and going to my mom's house until the little brat is out of this house. I am sick of my things being destroyed. I'm sick of telling him over and over and over to leave stuff alone if it's not his. I don't care if it's a paper clip on the floor....if it's not his, leave it alone. I'm sick of living my life in my OWN HOME and have to lock stuff up. I'm sick of trying to figure out what's safe to leave out because my bedroom is literally a stacked up, can't see the floor, possible fire hazard stye because there is so much **** crammed in there. But if I don any of the things I want to do (see above) I'm the freaking bad guy because it was just piddly stuff and why would I kick my own child out on the streets over a pair of sunglasses. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't and I HATE MY LIFE.