There's a thief in the streets

Seven new homes are being built on my street.  I know that we are living in an economic recession, but apparently nobody told our builder.  So while everybody else is enjoying an empty lot beside their house that serves as their dog's personal poop pad, we are enjoying hammers banging at 6 a.m. and nails stuck in our tires.

But I digress.

Most every morning as I'm driving Bailey and Drew to school, I see this little old Asian lady snooping around in the builder's construction dumpster.  Depending on how late we are for school, I see her either walking toward the half-finished houses, ankle-deep in the dumpster or making her escape with a red wheelbarrow full of goodies.

I felt like this needed to be reported, but to whom?

The HOA?  They'll stick a nastygram in my mailbox if the mums don't match the pumpkins on my front porch decor.  Surely they'll be interested to know that we have a 4'11" thief roaming our streets.

Or maybe somebody should tell the builder that their dumpster is a little lighter in the afternoon than it is in the morning?

Maybe the Neighborhood Watch.  Do we even have a Neighborhood Watch?

What about the local police?

Then I thought, 'Ugh.  This is too hard!  I'm just going to skip to the next part: What do I say when I call?'

"911. What is your emergency?"
"Yes. Hi.  There's a little Asian lady stealing trash out of the builder's dumpster on my street."
"I'm sorry, ma'am.  You were breaking up.  Did you say that she's stealing trash?"
"Yes."
"You mean the stuff that they don't want anymore?  The scraps that, if she didn't "steal" them, the builder would have to pay for their disposal?"
"Yes."
"Ma'am, do you understand that this line can only be used for real, actual emergencies and now you are subject to a $500 fine?"
"Ummmm.... I haven't given you my name yet, have I?  No?  Good."  Click.  

Great.  I can't figure out that second part, either.  I better skip to the third part: collecting photographic evidence.   That way, when I finally determine who to call and what to say, I'll have rock hard, solid, irrefutable evidence to back up my story.

I swear she's stealing.  If, indeed, you can even that tell she's a she.

If I had to make a living as a private detective, I would  be living in a ditch somewhere.

So I tried  to collect better evidence the next morning.  I knew I would get it right this time!

Her superpower is that she can be invisible.

Okay.  Just imagine a little old lady wearing mismatched clothes and pushing a red wheelbarrow full of wood scraps and empty paint cans.  If you look really, really closely, I think you can even see the reflection of her left shoe in the mirror.  You can't?  Oh.  Nevermind then.

I suuuuuuuck.  Forget it, lady.  Steal all you want.   I give up.  Reporting you is too much work.

P.S. What do you think she does with all that stuff?  If you come across a yard sale with an Asian lady selling construction garbage, just walk away.  That mech is HOT!