Who Stole my Spare Tire?

OK.
It is really and truly summertime, and, while I am not noticing that I am feeling particularly "blonde," clearly my teacher brain has officially and definitely gone on vacation.
Much to Master's vast amusement.
So, here's the story:
Part of the resolution of the "car crisis" involves turning in the leased Toyota Matrix that I have been driving for the last four years. That needs to occur by the end of this week, or by the beginning of next week at the latest. I think I have gotten all of the "technical" stuff handled. So all that was really needed for me to do yesterday was to clean up the actual vehicle: clean the inside and vacuumn and wash it. Not too demanding and certainly not complicated. They pay high school students minimum wage to do this work.
It was a lovely, very hot, sunny day. But, I'm on summer vacation, so not a problem. I got into my shorts, grabbed my window cleaner and paper towels, dragged the vacumn cleaner out to the driveway, filled my bucket up, and hooked up the hose. I emptied out all the "stuff" that has accumulated in my car over these years, and set to work.
I used to be the official cleaner for my dad's cars, and as I worked away, it was almost nostalgic. Dad was always particular about his windows and dashboards and such and so the business of doing the cleaning and polishing of the interior of the car was a pleasant memory for me.
Just as I was finishing the interior of the car, working on the hatch area, I opened the storage compartment where the spare tire is stored, and stood looking into the interior where there was a large, circular space -- clean as a whistle, and completely empty.
I just stood there, utterly dumbfounded, looking at the tire jack and the tools and the large, round, empty space.
And then, thinking quickly, I slammed the cover back down and locked it. I just couldn't believe it! My spare tire. Gone! No spare tire. Where could it have gone? How long had it been gone? Who would have taken my spare tire? How could they have done that? Why would anyone take the spare tire and nothing else?
I whirled through a gazillion questions.
And, honestly, this whole business has been such a gigantic pain that I just couldn't think about it. I grabbed the bucket and brush and went to work washing the outside of the car -- still in a complete dither.
I was about a third of the way through that part of the process when Master called, on His way home from work. I told Him what I was doing and told Him about the spare tire theft. He questioned me, none too gently, making it clear that, obviously if someone had stolen the tire, I'd left the car unlocked at some point and set that possibility up (I don't EVER leave the car unlocked except here at home inside the garage). He told me THEY would probably charge me $500 for the missing tire when I turned the car in. He suggested that I should call the police, but I was sure that if HE didn't believe me, they wouldn't either... so what was the point?
He eventually hung up, and I finished washing the outside of the car, feeling the way you feel when you know that "Master" thinks you've been an idiot.
I put everything away, disconnected the hose, and headed inside to get online and see if I could locate a cheap replacement for the spare tire.
That's where I was when He got home.
The very first thing He did was grab the keys and head out to the driveway. I knew He was going to go look. I knew He just didn't believe me. So, I followed Him out, sad, dejected, hoping against hope that somehow Master would make something magic happen and FIX this for me.
He opened the hatch and unlocked the storage compartment. There it was -- the big, round, empty space, and all the neatly arranged tools. He began to tug and pull at the storage compartment floor, and then started to chuckle. "Honey, He said, this is the cover. The tire is underneath this. Put your hand in here. Here's the rim and here's the rubber. The tire is right here."
Now.
Friends.
I could tell you that I felt stupid at that moment, and I suppose at some level I probably did. All of you are probably laughing at how really "girly" dumb I was. But, I've got to tell you that all I really felt at that moment was relieved and thrilled. Master really did FIX it. He came home, used His amazing crime-solving skills, and took care of the mystery of my stolen spare tire!
Of course, I have PAID for it. He has laughed and teased me unmercifully during every waking minute ever since. It makes Him laugh until I'm afraid He will fall on the floor.
For my part, I am claiming that it was the HEAT. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

swan