Recently I have become aware of another being living in my home. His name is "Not me."
I have no idea how Not Me came to live here or who let him in. I have not actually met him either although my husband and two kids have. I envision him as having reddish hair, freckles dotting the bridge of his nose and a chipped front tooth.
Not Me is responsible for all sorts of mysterious occurrences under this roof. For instance, Not Me has eaten all of the ice cream that I bought a few days ago. When I asked my two kids who ate all of the ice cream, they replied, "Not Me." Recently, Not Me left the fence door open letting the dogs out. Luckily for us our dogs are fairly smart. The dogs were either scared or suspicious that it may be a trick so they waited patiently on the front lawn never venturing beyond the yard. Again, I asked my family who left the gate open and they replied, "Not Me."
Not Me hasn't ended his pranks there. He has left a trail of dog food from the garage to the dog bowls, left wet towels on the wood floors, cancelled a program I had set on the DVR, lost ear buds and the most concerning, spilled something on my iPhone. The latter has caused me to use my phone in speaker mode or it's extremely difficult to hear callers. Which I guess isn't all that bad until you have to take a call in the grocery store and put the person on speaker. The result is they get to hear me and the manager's daily special. And before you say, "well, why don't you just take it to an Apple store?" I will tell you that I am -- in San Antonio, three hours away, where the nearest Apple store is located as soon as I can find the time.
But now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not sure that Not Me is a kid at all. I distinctly remember a Not Me from my childhood. One time he let a lizard loose on my mother's shoulder as my family travelled from East Texas back to Fort Worth in our station wagon. Another time, Not Me backed my friend's parents car out of a driveway striking a speed sign. To cover his tracks he tried to Super Glue the rubber strip back to the metal bumper. Her parents asked, "Who did that?" to which we replied, "Not Me."
I hope to meet this Not Me someday. I'm sure if he's keeping a diary of all of his pranks then we will have a good laugh and maybe I'll learn the whereabouts of my missing Henckel knife. I'm sure I'll also learn that Not Me is a close friend of the sock thief. You know that guy. He steals one sock out of each laundry load.
Wondering if Not Me and the Sock Thief are relatives of the Dead Battery Miser who takes used batteries out but doesn't throw them away.
The Wondering Texan
I have no idea how Not Me came to live here or who let him in. I have not actually met him either although my husband and two kids have. I envision him as having reddish hair, freckles dotting the bridge of his nose and a chipped front tooth.
Not Me is responsible for all sorts of mysterious occurrences under this roof. For instance, Not Me has eaten all of the ice cream that I bought a few days ago. When I asked my two kids who ate all of the ice cream, they replied, "Not Me." Recently, Not Me left the fence door open letting the dogs out. Luckily for us our dogs are fairly smart. The dogs were either scared or suspicious that it may be a trick so they waited patiently on the front lawn never venturing beyond the yard. Again, I asked my family who left the gate open and they replied, "Not Me."
Not Me hasn't ended his pranks there. He has left a trail of dog food from the garage to the dog bowls, left wet towels on the wood floors, cancelled a program I had set on the DVR, lost ear buds and the most concerning, spilled something on my iPhone. The latter has caused me to use my phone in speaker mode or it's extremely difficult to hear callers. Which I guess isn't all that bad until you have to take a call in the grocery store and put the person on speaker. The result is they get to hear me and the manager's daily special. And before you say, "well, why don't you just take it to an Apple store?" I will tell you that I am -- in San Antonio, three hours away, where the nearest Apple store is located as soon as I can find the time.
But now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not sure that Not Me is a kid at all. I distinctly remember a Not Me from my childhood. One time he let a lizard loose on my mother's shoulder as my family travelled from East Texas back to Fort Worth in our station wagon. Another time, Not Me backed my friend's parents car out of a driveway striking a speed sign. To cover his tracks he tried to Super Glue the rubber strip back to the metal bumper. Her parents asked, "Who did that?" to which we replied, "Not Me."
I hope to meet this Not Me someday. I'm sure if he's keeping a diary of all of his pranks then we will have a good laugh and maybe I'll learn the whereabouts of my missing Henckel knife. I'm sure I'll also learn that Not Me is a close friend of the sock thief. You know that guy. He steals one sock out of each laundry load.
Wondering if Not Me and the Sock Thief are relatives of the Dead Battery Miser who takes used batteries out but doesn't throw them away.
The Wondering Texan
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