Remember that one time when all my tires got stolen?

Early in the  morn, on what was suppose to be a happy Saturday, full of baby watching, Ikea shopping and deserved downtime, I walked into the underground parking lot to see this:

Yes, you are not mistaken, that is my car sitting on cinder blocks minus tires and wheels. 

My first thought: Are you effing kidding me? You stole MY wheels?

All four, gone. 

I spent the morning calling, AAA (who couldn't help me), my insurance company and the cops. All of which thought it was both hilarious and tragically sad that someone stole my tires. 

And to put a cherry on top of this fantastic ice cream sundae of thievery and personal insult, the tools kicked my car. 

Leaving this pretty dent and a foot print. 

You rock Provo!