Dear Mr./Mrs. Winnie-the-Pooh Umbrella Thief,
Yes, I am calling you that because it is exactly what you are. I don't care if it was lying on the ground or the floor of the train or where ever it was that Hubba-hubba was so unwise to drop it without noticing.
I thought the phrase "finders keepers, losers weepers" was something that we grow out of, oh, sometime during middle school.
Oh yes, Umbrella Thief, even though you stole it on Monday, I have waited until today to inform the public of the crime. Because I try to be an optimist. I try to be a glass half full kind of gal. Thanks very much for just shattering the glass with a baseball bat.
Look, I know it is an awesome umbrella. I know that people love it, and they actually comment to you about it because it is so cute. Yes, about an umbrella, it nevers fails to amaze me.
But did you ever think, as you were picking it up and looking it over, that it was predicted to rain in less than three hours, and perhaps the rightful owner kind of needed it? Or something remotely like that?
Or that it might be the only means for a three year old to stay dry?
Or how about if this umbrella had been a gift from a deceased relative, one of the last gifts ever given by the beloved?
Ok, so that last one does not exactly pertain to this situation.
But, that is totally beside the point.
The point is, you don't know what that umbrella might have meant to the owner.
Even if it was just an umbrella.
And stealing it at Disneyland, the Happiest Place on Earth.
Have you not the slightest shred of shame?