This is how it happens:
I stop by the current residence of MollyMischeif, which happens to be at her mother’s beautiful, beautiful house in a beautiful, beautiful lake town in suburban Minneapolis.
Molly and I decide it’s a really good idea to peek in at the gecko which her mother (aka Crazy Zoo Lady) has just hatched. He was beautiful.
Here’s where it all went wrong—Molly set Mr. Gecko’s heat lamp down on Mom’s countertop. It was all fine until we heard the “POP!”
Guess what—heat lamps cause countertops to bubble and crack! Awesome!
So…Mom comes home, and Molly grovels, and Mom answers with a helpless, “Oh, well…s&^%$ happens.”
Yes, it does, I think to myself, and proceed to go about my life, content with the fact that it could be worse.
Not ten minutes later, we’re going upstairs to apply neat facial serum to my delicate skin, when we walk through a door…which is being held open by a sewing box. An ANTIQUE sewing box. That belonged to Mom’s GRANDMOTHER.
Molly made it through the door just fine.
Apparently, I am blind. I did not see said sewing box. Rather, I kicked the crap out of it as I tripped on it. It looked like I’d put a bomb inside it. The thing has been reduced to timbers. Tiny. Little. Timbers.
Mom laughed.
I think she was just being polite.
I feel like a really, really naughty ten-year-old.
Do real live adults actually DO stuff like this?????!!!!!
Or is it just me…?