“It Wasn’t Me” Strikes Again

by Paula on November 20, 2009

If you’ve been a mom for long, you’ve likely had a run-in with the notoriously naughty, yet curiously elusive child who manages to fly under the radar by maintaining several aliases, such as “Not Me,” “Nobody,” or “The Dog.” In my house he goes by “It Wasn’t Me.” But don’t get bogged down in the pseudonymous details. Whatever his name, his M.O. is the same: to wreak havoc on a household and try to shift the blame to sweet, innocent children. Make no mistake: he’s a wily and crafty kid, and he’s capable of almost anything.

Lately he’s been targeting my house, preying on my three angelic boys. And although we’ve gotten close to catching him, he always manages to slip away just in the nick of time, leaving us in the wake of his destruction. Take a look at what “It Wasn’t Me” has managed to pull off at our house just this week:

  • Left a cereal bowl on the living room floor.
  • Threw an apple core in the bathtub.
  • Stuck his toe in Boy #2′s eye.
  • Misplaced the universal remote 37 times.
  • Cut little slits in my sheets and pillowcase.
  • Left poop in the toilet and didn’t flush.
  • Left pee in the toilet and didn’t flush.
  • Left pee ON the toilet and didn’t flush (or wipe it off).
  • Began disassembling a rubber band ball and shooting about 30 rubber bands throughout the house.
  • Farted. Repeatedly.
  • Left the garage door open.
  • Discarded an empty GoGurt wrapper on my bedroom floor.
  • Ate an entire box of Triscuits within 30 minutes of my returning from the grocery store.
  • Squirted globs of ketchup on the kitchen table and then left them to congeal and harden.
  • Left cupboard doors open.
  • Left the front door open.
  • Left the refrigerator door open.

If you suspect you’ve been a victim of “It Wasn’t Me,” do not attempt to apprehend this troublemaker on your own. He is said to be armed with a permanent marker and will likely start scribbling on your leather couch if cornered.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Photo courtesy of ebarrera on flickr

Related posts:

  1. This Would Only Happen In My House
  2. So It’s Come To This . . . Scavenging Through the Neighbor’s Trash
  3. My bologna has a first name. It’s Fred.

{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }

1 Jenni November 20, 2009 at 1:57 pm

Oh wow. Big trouble in the little city. All I have to say is, "It wasn't me!"

Good post!

[Reply]

2 The Mother November 20, 2009 at 5:50 pm

Every mother has a "Not Me." It seems to be a shadow event to her first birth–some invisible protoplasm that is expelled with the afterbirth.

Since we can't find it, we can't get rid of it. Short of exorcism.

I could never find a priest who would come to my Jewish/atheist house.

[Reply]

3 chrissyrudd November 20, 2009 at 8:18 pm

She goes by "Everything's fine!", "Nothing!", and "SHHHHH!!!! You're okay!" at our house… :)

[Reply]

4 jen November 21, 2009 at 12:48 pm

Wow! He really gets around. I could offer a list as long as your arm, but I won't.
It might make him mad that I'm commenting about him.
O crap, he's spilling pickle juice in the junk drawer. Gotta go…

[Reply]

5 Trenches of Mommyhood November 22, 2009 at 6:58 pm

Yup, he resides in my Trenches as well, the little bastard.

[Reply]

6 The Fritz Facts November 22, 2009 at 7:04 pm

Oh, we have "Not my fault" here, such a fiendish thing!

[Reply]

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