Monday, April 2, 2012

A Case of Mistaken Identity

Yesterday, Seth and I were involved in assorted around-the-house maintenance.
 It was typical weekend stuff--minor chores, minor errands, the occasional cruel mind game...the usual. 

Halfway through the day, somewhere between genuine productivity and the traditional slow-down of post-lunch afternoon, he insisted that I meet outside so he could "ask" me something.

He sounded irked.

Busy as a bee, I kept telling him I'd "be out in a minute" only to have  his annoyance grow as a few hours ticked by before I stumbled out in the backyard with him.

Before me was a tableau of destruction. There was the heavy metal barrel -- with the tight lid -- we keep on the deck. It had recently been refilled with seed for our hungry bird pals...but, what was this?

It appeared to have been hurled down the stairs, the lid pried off and the seed strewn about in a five foot periphery, black sunflower seed everywhere. The scoop was halfway across the yard.

"Did you do this?" Seth asked me with disgust, gesturing dramatically to the destruction.

"Yes, Seth, I did," I admitted, turning to go back into the house.

I also wash apples in the stream with my tiny hands before I eat them, wear a black mask and have a fluffy ringed tail.


  1. Hold on a minute...let me guess. Your husband is a MAN. in that case, this all makes sense.

  2. Why does that question not surprise me. Doug would've asked the same.

  3. Been asked the same type of question by my hubby.

  4. I wish I had a fluffy tail, a gray fluffy tail.