We came home from a mini camping excursion yesterday to discover that someone had been in our house while we were gone. How did I know this? Well, there was the doll hand sticking out of the hallway junk drawer for starters. Then I notice a doll face pinned to each cup of my brassiere (which I notoriously hang over whatever door handle happens to be closest to where I'm undressing). The only person I can think of who 1) knows we are out of town and 2) can get into the house via the spare key is our carpenter. While he's been doing work on our house for over a year and is practically one of the family now, the thought that his sense of humor extends to playing with my underclothing kinda creeps me out. "Please, God - don't let it be Steve. His work is amazing and I really don't want to have to fire him over one little slip in judgment." To make matters worse, doll heads and appendages keep appearing everywhere I look - under the toilet seat, on top of ceiling fan blades, in the cold cut drawer of the refrigerator. This is one phone call I definitely don't want to make.
Let me fast forward a few minutes to the part where Brooks admits that he knew all along who has done it. In fact, he was in on it from the beginning. "Jenny, there are only two people in this world with a sense of humor bizarre enough to do something like this and they are both related to you."
"Lindsey!! And Vicki?" This is sheer genius, I have to admit. My sisters are very clever women but a joke on this level is unprecedented. I take my hat off to them for the forethought and creativity. I'm still discovering heads, arms, and legs in ice cream containers, sleeves of oven mitts, water-filled Kerr jars in the pantry and pockets of my hoodies.
They were practically in tears of laughter when I called them to offer my congratulations. I only have two things to say, ladies:
1) somewhere in Sandy there's a very embarrassed carpenter and
2) everyone falls asleep eventually.
