The Anger!

I’m very angry.

I know it’s hard to tell with the written word. Perhaps adding multiple exclamation points would help to punctuate the severity of my anger?

I’m very angry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Yes, that does seem to get my – exclamation – point across.)

I can’t remember the last time I was this angry.

… (I’m thinking)

… (nothing is coming to mind.)

… (I’m hungry. I should make myself a sandwich. Peanut butter and jam or peanut butter and honey? Whoops. I’m supposed to be thinking of the last time I was this angry.)

… (I’m thinking.)

… (possibly the time that a man almost hit me with his car because he was too busy texting to come to a full stop and he didn’t see me walking across the street, and I shook my fist angrily in his direction.)

But, now that I think of it… That incident actually pales in comparison to the anger I feel right now.

The reason for my anger?

It’s probably not what you think… Unless you’re thinking that I’m angry with a German game manufacturer. Then you’re right.

I know: there are plenty of reasons to be angry with the Germans, but the reason that I’m angry with them really takes the cake.

… (mmmmm… cake.)

Before I tell you why I’m (very) angry with these particular Germans, I should set the scene…

I wasn’t ready for Christmas to be over this year.

I never am, but when January 1st rolled around this year, I just said “no” and refused to accept that the festivities were over. I added a few more Christmas ornaments to the tree. I baked cookies. I lit a scented candle (pine). I wrapped a present (for myself) and put it under the tree. I put on a Christmas record, and poured Bailey’s in my coffee.

I felt a bit warm and fuzzy, but it wasn’t enough.

Then I remembered what always puts me in the holiday spirit… A puzzle. It’s a Manky family tradition (along with smoked turkey, Rice Krispy® balls, and being passive-agressive).

Ravensburger. 1000 piece. The Rhine Valley. (I wasn’t messing around.)

I opened the box (and it made the sound a game box makes… a box fart… It was definitely the box!). I cut open the bag of puzzle pieces and I made it rain (puzzle pieces).

I was drunk on Christmas joy (and possibly, Bailey’s).

I started to puzzle… First the edges, then working my way from the sky, to the mountains… Water, city, leaves!

8 days and 21 hours later…

(The tree is long dead. The cookies have all been eaten. The scented candle was confiscated. The present has been opened and returned for something more suitable. The record still spins, but the Bailey’s is loooooong gone.)

As I placed the last puzzle piece, I felt a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment normally reserved for someone that succeeds in doing something.

Then I looked to the left… A piece was missing. 999 pieces placed, 1 missing.


I checked the floor, under the rug, my socks, under the puzzle. I swept the floor. I looked for at least 6 minutes. Nothing. Nowhere.

I started to feel slightly agitated… It quickly spiralled from agitation to annoyance, to irritation, to outrage… and then, anger.

It was obviously not me who lost the puzzle piece. I keep a tidy home and I’m aware of all comings and goings.

There is only one group of people to blame: German game manufacturer Ravensburger.

I wondered: Is this some kind of joke? Do they get their jollies by making people less jolly? Is this some kind of sick, sadistic ploy to rid the world of joy?

And then I did what any disappointed, defeated, angry person would do…

I made myself a peanut butter and jam sandwich.


Update: As of Tuesday January 13 2015 20:05 PMT

I am pleased to report that the puzzle piece was found. In a last ditch effort to complete the puzzle, a sift through the garbage was done at approximately 19:55 PMT. The piece was found lodged in the Ravensburger puzzle piece bag. Kimberly was reported as saying, “I love puzzles, and Germans, again.”


Oh, my book OH NO YOU DIDN’T is now available on, and Go buy it and I’ll give you a kiss on the face.


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