Tuesday, December 6, 2011

hello, my name is 'not me'.

There's a rogue hooligan that lives in my house. He's stealthy and fantastical. He confuses the masses and creates contention. He is masterful at his art. He lives to confound. His purpose is clear. Destroy destroy destroy.

His name is NotMe. He does, however, have many an alias which only aid him in the perfection of his evil craft.


A.K.A. IDidn'tDoIt.

A.K.A. IDon'tKnow

A.K.A. ItWasn'tMe

But the best one of all is 'IThinkItWasSoAndSo'. The name he uses whereby confusing the questioner into looking at someone other than him for blame. It is his coldest, most calculated name of all.

Me: Who left the bread out?

The Kids: NotMe.

Me: Blast that NotMe!

Me: Who left the milk on the table to go sour?

The Kids: IDidn'tDoIt.

Me: Blast that IDidn'tDoIt!

Me: Who farted?

The Kids: IDon'tKnow.

Me: Well tell him to stop before I gag!

Me: Who made this big mess and just left it for me to clean up?

NotMe: IThinkItWasHolden.

Holden: IDidn'tDoIt.

NotMe: Then IThinkItWasJack.

Jack: ItWasn'tMe.

Me: Then WHO DID IT?

The Kids: NotMe

Me: Why I oughtta.........

Me: How many times do I have to tell you guys to stop leaving poop in the toilet. Just flush the bloody thing. (I flush the bloody thing) See? How hard was that? (I stare everyone of them in the eye knowing that, if I try hard enough, my super sensory detective skills will unveil unto me the culprit.)

One by one they chant: ItWasn'tMe. ItWasn'tMe. ItWasn'tMe. ItWasn'tMe.

Me: Well then, who was it?

Them: IDon'tKnow. IDon'tKnow. IDon'tKnow. IDon'tKnow.

Me: I think you do know.

Them: NotMe. NotMe. NotMe. NotMe.

Me: (hands on hips. Stare is strong. Never. Back. Down.)

The Kids: IDidn'tDoIt. ItWasn'tMe. IDon'tKnow. NotMe.

Me: (hushed violent whisper meant to instill fear to their very cores) When I find this 'NotMe'....this 'IDidn'tDoIt'......this 'ItWasn'tMe'.....this 'IDon'tKnow'...... I'm going to bring him before you and make an example out of him. It won't be pretty. You won't like it. You may even cry. So if I was you, and I saw him lurking about in the shadows, I would tell that cowardly no good punk, who loves to wreak havoc amongst you little people of my womb, that he should head for the hills. Do you hear me? I will find him.

I will.

And he will rue the day he came here and took me on. And pooped without flushing. (My voice getting louder, aiming for the general air around me, meant for 'NotMe' to hear, wherever he may be.) Do you hear me? NotMe. Yeah, that's right, I'm talking to you. That was a threat. Come on out!

Mmm hmmm. That's what I thought.


(I walk away leaving my spawn to their thoughts)

The Kids to each other: It was you, wasn't it?
Then who did?
Was it you?
Well, It Wasn't Me.
Was it you?
Nope, NotMe......

Fade out.


  1. Max isn't old enough to play the blame game but I remember it well from my own youth. And in more recent years my husband and I have played our own version. It is more agressive and offensive rather than timid and defensive. Where are the car keys? "You're the one"...who drove last.....who always loses things...I saw you with them...etc. Fun, fun games! :)

  2. I love this. Because it's not happening to me...yet.

  3. My three year old just met these people.

  4. Man that Mr. Nobody gets around!!

    Here is my post about Mr. Nobody from when I first started my blog:


  5. Oh my. We're not to this point yet...but I can only imagine. Iris has just learned "neh" for no. Scary.

    I followed you over here from Nat the Fat Rat! I love finding new blogs to read! If you want to come say hi, you can find me and my little family here: Reverie. Hope to talk to you soon!