Nut House

Grace comes out of the bathroom and shares, in her tattle-tale sing-song voice, "Mom, come see what's in the bath-room.  Sam is being naugh-ty!"

Sam wanders out sans pants (not unusual) and I ask him what he is doing.

Sam replies, "I was...I don't know how to call it."

So I wander back to the bathroom expecting to find my face lotion, deodorant, and/or mascara smeared everywhere.  Instead I find the counter littered with feminine hygiene products, half of which have been carefully unwrapped.  I sigh and walk out to finish seeing our friends off and then walk back to find ALL the feminine products unwrapped.

Grace looks at me and innocently says, "I unwrapped the rest of them."  I guess they couldn't be content with wasting only some, we must waste all.

I set about cleaning up the mess, making a mental note to replenish the stock when I see the dog sneak behind me and grab something from the tub.  I tell him to drop it and he darts off hoping to keep his prize.  I chase him down and reach in his slobbery mouth to retrieve a bar of soap.  SOAP!  Why would he try to eat soap?!  I was expecting a rubber ducky.  Who eats soap?!  And why?

I live in a nut house.  That is all.  Thank you for reading.