I’ve had visitors today. Uninvited visitors. I’m typically a pretty amicable host and will go out of my way to make sure that my guests are comfortable. OK, so that may not be entirely true. I mean, chances are you’re not going to get my last Izze and if for some reason I happen to divide the last steak, my portion will most assuredly be a tad larger than yours. But you’re not going to starve or die of thirst. Hell, there’s even a pretty good chance you can sit in my chair. (I don’t really have a chair but if I did, I’d probably let you sit in it.)
But I get to keep the remote.
Today’s uninvited guests, however, have pretty much crapped all over my proverbial welcome mat. They are no longer welcome here and I swear as God is my witness if I they don’t leave — and soon — there’s gonna be a killin’.
I Don’t Know has stopped by and he brought his annoying little buddy, Not Me. I despise them both!!
In the short span of a few hours, I Don’t Know and Not Me have completely destroyed my living room, they have overturned every chair in the dining room — the ones they left in the dining room, that is. For some reason almost every chair in my dining room has been relocated. I think the only reason the table is still there is because it’s too damn big to move!
One of them, and I can’t get a straight story from either, used a blue sharpie to paint a mural on one of the cabinet drawers in the kitchen. When I asked who had done it I Don’t Know said, “Not Me.” Not Me quickly countered with, “I Don’t Know.”
Both of them were more than willing to give up the other, neither willing to accept full responsibility.
I suppose the final straw — hell, it’s 3:30 in the afternoon and we’ve already made it to the final straw!! — was when I heard the distinctive sound that glass makes as it shatters on a bare wood floor. Seems that I Don’t Know, or Not Me (again, no one seems to want to give me a definitive answer) used one of the dining chairs, a dining chair that was in the entry hallway instead of it’s rightful home in the, yeah, dining room, to climb upon and play with glass wall sconce.
The same glass wall sconce that had made the distinctive and unmistakable breaking sound that coincided with the final straw. I suppose on the bright side it was just as well. I mean, those sconces were what 95, 100 years old?? They were getting pretty dated. I suppose I should be thanking I Don’t Know and Not Me for providing the impetus for me to go out and purchase new wall sconces. (Yeah, it was one of a pair.)
I should, but I’m not quite there yet.
As it is, I Don’t Know and Not Me are in a serious bad way with my good graces. And since they seem to scatter when disaster strikes I’ve got Zander and Zella looking for them now. Each one with very explicit instructions to look in one very specific corner of their room.
They are supposed to let me know when they have located I Don’t Know and Not Me so that true justice can be meted out.
I don’t hold much hope.