Seriously, I do. Want proof?
First of all, as a punishment for my teenage son, I sent him to clean the toilet in my bathroom. (I’ve seen his, and believe me, he needs the practice.) When I went in to inspect it afterward, I found this:
Thankfully, he’d used a dry-erase marker which came completely off. Still, one has to wonder….
I went upstairs to find my daughter “ironing”…a washcloth…with a plastic baseball bat.
Okay, she’s two, so I can let that one go. But what I found in the kitchen was slightly more disturbing.
I’d opened a BIG can of Ro-Tel (tomatoes and chilis) and only used part of it, so I’d put the rest in a plastic storage container. When I opened the refrigerator, this is what I found:
SOMEONE had used a Sharpie to clearly label the bowl, “Stomach contents of a Labradoodle.” It wasn’t me. It wasn’t any of my kids. That’s all I’m sayin’.
Things are never boring around here, and I have lots of reasons to smile (and cringe). So yes, I live in a nuthouse. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.