You Can't Handle the Truth

Where is Jack Nicholson when you need him.  I bet he and A Few Good Men would get to the bottom of the rash of sibling violence around here.

First, there was the still-unsolved Brothers' Bus Stop Brawl.  Still think I should have called the cute, blonde neighborhhod girl in for questioning.  Now, we have the mysterious Bloody Toe Clothes Hamper Fracas.

I was chatting on the phone with Lib yesterday.  Numbers 2-4 and I were about to walk out the door to pick up Number 1.  Then the familiar wail of Number 3 came from the other room. The legitimate wail, not the I-want-to-watch-another-Spongebob wail.  I turned the corner to find him wallowing on the floor holding his blood-dripping foot and Number 2 shrugging his shoulders.

I'll never know what really happened.  I have pieced together differing accounts of Number 3 pretending to be a ghost with the clothes hamper over his head and Number 2 possibly dropping or throwing or kicking the clothes hamper in such a way as to cause bloody, bodily injury to Number 3's big toe.


The truth? Who needs the truth?  I probably couldn't handle it anyway.


Another day, another story,
Em