Thursday, July 31, 2008

If Its Broken, Deny It. Blame it on Rocky the Raccoon.

A curious thing is happening at my house.

Paint is peeling.

Objects are breaking at random.

Spills are materializing.

It's coming out of nowhere.

Who's doing these things to me?

I can only imagine. I've begun to think it must be some sort of ghost. A ghost on a rather irritating journey of destruction, determined to undermine all of my housework [notice how I said all, as if to imply that I do a lot of housework]. Perhaps its a kind of retribution? Bad cleaning karma? Revenge brought on by some raccoon who swallowed the gum I threw out the window? Or some bird who choked on that balloon I let fly?

Must be. Because it's certainly not my children doing these things. Not those beautiful, squeaky-clean, well mannered, selfless, honest little life specimens. Of course not. I can't imagine doing such things [and then lying about said things' exsistence] would even cross their minds.

Nope. Not my kids.


Me: Where did that spill come from?
Dearest Children: I don't know.
Me: Well it must have come from somewhere.
Statement greeted with silence and then....
Hayden: I might have spilled my Vitamin water....


Aaron [also known as my husband, dad, guy with a beard]: Did you guys peel that paint off the wall?
Me [to Aaron]: But I thought you did that.
Aaron: Uh, no. I didn't.
Me: But I asked them about it earlier and they clearly said no, it wasn't them. And I, uh, believed it.
Both parents shoot disapproving looks in the general direction of children.

Cash: Uh. We did it with a screwdriver?
Hayden: Yeah. Standing on top of here [points to skinny corner edge on the top bunk of their bunk beds].

Me: Sighs in disbelief. Faints from betrayal.


Me: Hayden, I noticed my beloved [hideous green & white ceramic] frog upstairs was missing a piece of its mouth. Do you know how that happened?
Hayden: No.
Me: Really? You know you can tell me these things...I won't get mad.
Hayden: Well, Ithrewmytruckandithititanditbrokeanditwasanaccident.
Me: Now that's more like it.

See what I mean? The whole ghost explanation was way more interesting.

Now, please feel free to make me feel better by admitting there's a wandering little ghost with sticky fingerprints and muddy shoes destroying your house too? PLEASE???


Jenny, the Bloggess said...

That damn ghost made a huge mess in our kitchen.

Dusty Brown: said...

Ohhhhh. Yes. Miles has all of a sudden started lying lately. Just blatantly telling me she didn't do things that I saw her do. {Sigh}

Randy said...


Do you mean like how all the food crumbs get into the TV room where food is strictly forbidden? No...I didn't think so.

How about the TEN Gatorade bottles and soda cans found in the basement just this morning waiting for the cleaning fairy to recycle them? They would be there when we sell the house in ten years, if I didn't (quietly) suggest that someone pick them up.

I really don't know what you're talking about, since absolutely, positively every rule in our house is BROKEN just about every day.

Uncle Randy