The twins, bright eyed and animated as ever came running into the kitchen.  They clutched my legs, trembling.

“What do you think it was?”

(I knew exactly what it was.  I had overloaded the washing machine—again—and as it tried to start it’s spin cycle began to shake pretty strongly.)

“I don’t know,” Zander timidly responded.

“Was it the cat?” I asked.  (Let’s see how far I can take this, I thought to myself.)

“No.  The cat ran.”

“Was it Zane?”

“Dad!  Zane just went to school.”

“Was it Rusty?”

“Rusty is outside.”

“Was it a frog?”

“No.”

“Was it a–a monster??”

“Uhm…”  Zander’s eyes grew even more wide.  Clearly I had touched a nerve.  Maybe pushed a bit too far.  (Unusual.)

“Or could it have been the washing machine?  I think I put too many clothes in it.”

Zella then interjected, “I’m pretty sure it was a gorilla!”