When we got home from our birthday casino trip on Tuesday, The Pony went into the Mansion ahead of us. I'm just slow, and Farmer H was parking A-Cad after letting me out behind the garage. Heh, heh, all those years I told him the garage was too small and he didn't believe me! Nobody can open a passenger door when A-Cad is parked inside, because the wall is too close.
Anyhoo... The Pony had to get his birthday card, and the Valentine's candy that Farmer H had gotten for him. He also wanted the key code off my TurboTax, so he could file his taxes. And to make a quick bathroom visit before driving home.
I came in the kitchen door and saw The Pony coming across the kitchen by the cutting block. He had a funny look on his face. Kind of sheepish. Then I saw him put a knife on the counter beside the sink. I thought it was the butter knife I keep on the cutting block to jab at wayward ice cubes in FRIG II's freezer.
"What's going on with my knife?"
"Umm... nothing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Okay. I found it in my room."
"What?"
"I went in my bedroom to get something. I was looking for my tweezers. And I saw this knife."
SWEET GUMMI MARY! That butter knife has been in The Pony's room since he moved out last May. Probably before that! And I hadn't even noticed. We don't go in The Pony's room. I don't count my butter knives. Now if it had been a FORK, I would have known one was missing.
Let the record show that there was still some butter clinging to that knife, along with some toast crumbs.
Still some butter clinging? I'm surprised there weren't any ants as well. I guess butter isn't sweet enough for them.
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteWe rarely get ants in the Mansion. Maybe once every 3-4 years. They march across the threshold of the kitchen door, and up the counter to mill around beside the sink, where the rinsed dishes sit, awaiting hand-washing. A good spray of RAID along the trail gets rid of them.
So, the Pony buttered his toast in his room and forgot to pick the knife up after it fell? I used to have rooms I never went into, but that is not the case now! I distinctly remember my spoons disappearing while my Dad was sick and I was keeping the roads between Missouri and Geoargia in good use. When questiones, HeWho denied any knowledge of the whereabouts. Upon a more intensive interroagtion, he finally admitted he "may have" accidentally thrown them away in empty cartons of ice cream. Accidentally, indeed!
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteThat is unacceptable! I tracked down my thrown-away fork back when The Veteran hosted an anniversary party for us at our own Mansion. I am still mad at that entitled little wench who came as a guest of The Veteran's teenage stepdaughter, and demanded a REGULAR fork rather than the plastic everybody else used, and then tossed it in a black trash bag with her plate. I dug through TWO bags of trash to find it. Near the bottom, too!
I have no idea where in his room The Pony found that knife. He didn't bring a plate to the kitchen...