Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep.
Little Despot has lost a slipper
She doesn't know where to find them.
And doesn't give a hoot about it.
Leave them alone and they'll come home,
Glancing hurriedly around, like she's out of her mind,
Wagging their tails behind them.
Mom laments and overanalyzes the accursed windy day's events for what they really are: the step away from babyhood
Mom has nothing to do but leave it.

So not my best work, that little poetic attempt at being Cutesy Yet Profound.

I have shown an ability in the past to cut people out of my life with an alacrity that is a bit disconcerting. And yet things like this, like losing one part of a pair, losing a piece of some larger whole, or even having a blemish or damage to an item (be it an appliance, toy, article of clothing, etc.)....these things stick with me. Especially when it involves the loss of something. I experience a rather idiotically notable sense of sadness and, well, loss.

Pretty sure I can classify this as (one of many) Issues.

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