The Blame Game

We, as a family, have a nice little way of letting each other know where we stand. If anything goes wrong we are adept at looking sideways, upways, and downways to see if someone else could possibly be at fault. And it works.

It is also called "The Ghost in the House Did It", as well as, "A Neighbor or Stranger Sneaked In, and Unbeknownst to us all, spilled milk/juice/ beer and peed on the carpet, and then ran off into the night with a nevermaycare laugh".

Currently we are searching high and low for the game pieces to a Search and Rescue Game. Z swears to a court of law (which would be me) that he put them all in a Zip Lock and for God's Sake, why did I not keep track of them? Zane is enjoying the chase and I am being questioned.

Did you check the fridge? (Huh?)

What about the garage? (After all, they could have been misconstrued as pool toys.)

Under all beds? Yes.

Under and over and inside all cabinets? Yes.

Did you use them for makeup? Uh, no.

z has lost interest in the search for the game pieces which would allow an actual game to ensue. It was fun within itself for him. However it leaves Z and I befuddled, bewildered and bepissed.

Really, WHERE THE F DID THEY GO? Z swears he put them all in a ZipLock. I agree, because I saw it. Now they are gone.

GONE.

Not that Zane cares, he is happily asleep now, dreaming of toys to be. Meanwhile, we are on our knees, searching.

Searching.

Stop fucking with me, you took them, didn't you?