Before I left the career world to stay home with my girls we were able to afford a cleaning lady. She would come once a week and I would step into my home and feel a wonderful calmness rush over me, and I was happy. As with most families the rules are many but one usually tops the list; don't throw balls in the house. Well, I came home and asked S what happened to the yellow vase I loved that typically sat on the shelf in the kitchen? This was a special vase to me. It was cheap but a little old lady I adored gave it to me so the value was untouchable. He acted like he didn't know what I was talking about. Hmmm very suspicious. One- he isn't a good liar and two- he acts like a boy. Well well well. Look who is still here cleaning. The cleaning girl totally ratted him out. Him and the girls were not throwing bouncy balls or rubber balls or even tennis balls. They were throwing golf balls.
END. OF. STORY.
No comments:
Post a Comment