I flew in from St. Louis Sunday, then drove to Waco. Returned today. Pulled into my driveway, pleased to be home at last.

My carport was wrapped in Saran Wrap.



"What the...?" I got out of my car and stared in disbelief.

"You home now?" Clarence and Tommie hollered over at me.
"Um, yeah. What happened to my house?"
"Don't know. Came home from church yesterday and it was like that."

I stared at the carport in disbelief, wondering what structural damage would require heavy duty Saran Wrap to fix...



My phone rang, it was Frank. "What did you do to my carport?"
"Huh?"
"It's wrapped roof to cement in Saran Wrap. What happened?"
"I have no idea."

"There's writing on this window," Clarence yelled over to me, pointing to my kitchen window. There in big black letters read, "We heart (the symbol, not the word) Ms. Pittman."

The youth.

Great. I called Kevin, the church's youth minister and left him a message. "It's the youth at my church," I explained to Clarence and Tommie. "They like to call me Ms. Pittman; they think it's funny cause I hate it. The youth must have come over here Sunday night. It's okay."

I returned to my car and grabbed my overnight bag and my purse. Opened the front door to my house and stood staring with disbelief.



There in my living room, instead of my couch, was my dining room table with a ginormous pinata clown standing in my dining room chair reading a baylor magazine.



My open mouth began to curl upward as I scanned the room to the left.



Okay, it's someone with brains. Maybe Julie Valentine helped the youth pull this off. Maybe this is a really weird birthday present. Then I found my couch in the dining room.



Zorba was reclining on it as if nothing in the world had even blinked since he last acknowledged it. I moved on to the kitchen and found a blob under more Saran Wrap in the sink.



I peeled off the transluscent covering to smell and push down the disposal, gummy worms soaking in water under Saran Wrap.



Wondering what else could possibly be in my house, I peeked into my room which appeared normal. Good. Maybe they couldn't tell which room was mine and which was my roomie's. I stepped in to use the restroom. Pop! Pop! Pop! Huh? Oh my. Bubble sheets under all the throw rugs and mats.



And that's not all. Communion cups filled with water decorated my back bedroom...





After a very Nancy Drew-esque investigation, I discovered the culprits downfall. I could now identify who had pranked my house. This was on my bookshelf...



A Pa-Pa book (translated into Spanish nonetheless) there for me to enjoy. There's only one other Pa-Pa-and-his-free-books-non-fan who actually takes his books to prank people with. And where you find the sea, you're bound to find some ginger.

And I found some more things through the course of the evening, like my second dining room chair, Saran Wrapped, and located in my back bedroom.



And when I went to put the dishes away, I found my dish cabinet had been lined on the inside with Saran Wrap as well. Likewise, when I got out of the shower (after cleaning up the gummy worms), I opened my closet door and screamed. There flew up a donkey's head pinata, attached with a rope to my door handle, strung up (or out) in between my clothes which had also of course been Saran Wrapped.



The icing on the cake were the peeps in the freezer. On the refridgerator door read, "Peeps love the Lord." Inside are, well, peeps.



Don't worry, I'm in the process of getting it all cleaned up. And remember peeps, as some great person once said, "Payback's a b*tch." I'm taking names. Don't think I won't find you all and get you back. This is war.