Thursday, January 15, 2009

The Bad Man

When I was growing up if anything happened (ex: broken dish, water left on...) and none of us kids would fess up to it, my folks would ask "Did the ghost do it?" Heck yeah, the ghost did it. That's a silly question to ask four kids who knew very well that it was better to let the ghost take the fall than admit our guilt.

At this time in my life, Nate and I suffer from a similar phenomenon as the "Ghost" of my past. The day after our anniversary I was at work when I received a phone call from Nate. "Oh, how sweet," I thought to myself "He's calling to say he loves me and misses me." I answered the phone in my sexiest voice:
"Hey babe," I said "what's up?"
"I have some bad news." Was the reply from my dearest one.
"What's wrong? Are you ok? Do you need me to do anything for you?" I asked very concerned.
His answer chilled me to the bone. "Well, today when I wasn't looking, the Bad Man broke in and ate the rest of our anniversary cookie. He beat me up and ate it all."

Remember this:

Well, the yellow represents what I ate, the read is Nate's portion and the green is what the Bad Man stole:

"Oh no," I said "Are you ok? I'm sure you fought as hard as you could to keep the Bad Man away from your precious cookie."

What's this world coming to when a person can't even eat their own anniversary cookie?
That Bad Man is always breaking in and stealing things. Once he snuck in and ate all the left over Christmas candy. Another time he polished off all the cake. He'll steal the rest of the ice cream, any candy, cookies, Popsicles and anything else he can get his sugary hands on.

It's weird though, the Bad Man only comes when Nate is left home alone. He doesn't like Whoppers (my personal favorite) so those are always safe, which is a coincidence because Nate doesn't like Whoppers either...

I'm not pointing any fingers. I fully believe that the Bad Man is trying to set Nate up to take the fall. I won't have it. I won't let a shadow of doubt creep into my mind that the candy bar I was saving to eat, when I got home from work disappeared and all that was left was the wrapper folded neatly in the garbage, was eaten by my sweet sweet Natey-poo.

Origin of the Bad Man
The Bad Man first came into our lives after we heard the scary account of him sneaking in and setting up my innocent little cousin, Porter.

Porter was four at the time of this story. He slept in a bunk bed with his older brother. Porter had the bottom bunk and their room was located right next to the bathroom.

One night Porter's dad, Shane, came in to tuck the boys into bed. As Shane tucked Porter in he noticed little green boogers smeared on the wall next to Porters bed.
"Porter, why did you wipe boogers on the wall?" Shane asked "There's a bathroom right next door."
"I didn't do it Dad," Porter said, his big brown eyes wide "the Bad Man broke in."
"The Bad Man?" Shane said.
"Yeah, the Bad Man." Porter had to let it out "The Bad Man broke in and wiped boogers on the wall."
"Really?" Shane replied "It's weird that he only wiped boogers on your wall and not anywhere else."

And so the Bad Man entered our lives, he left Porter to clean up his mess and now he lurks by our house. Waiting, waiting until Nate is alone and there is a lone cookie or candy bar...and then he strikes. Below is the one picture that a passerby caught of the Bad Man. If you've seen him, please report him to the police:


Ali said...

I'm going to admit something very embarrassing right now: I was a chronic bed wetter all throughout childhood.

Anyway, one night I was sharing a bed with my then 6 year old sister, Julie. (I would've been around 11 at the time) She woke up in a puddle of my pee (don't think about that phrase too long, it will make you gag) and I was embarrassed so I told her a robber came in and peed the bed.

She believed me for many years. Just a little while ago she finally admitted to me that she really did believe this story I told her for a very long time.

The bad man is everywhere and can do anything. You are lucky he only ate your cookie!! Think about what he could've done in your bed!

gigi said...

This story sounds all to familiar being the oldest of 5 children! We didn't have a bad man but we did have an invisilbe little man. He stayed in trouble.

Jocelyn said...

I guess you're lucky to have a cookie bad man and not a booger one!

hil said...

Bing, how exactly do you define "childhood?" i ask because there were a few times in the mission that a robber came in and peed in your bed in Ecuador. actually, in Ecuador that might not be too far-fetched. Haley, this is a terrifying story. Poor Nate---all alone in the house when the bad man arrives, trying to make Nate look bad. thank goodness he has such a good wife who would never believe such heinous crimes were committed by her dear husband. so NO kings to you, bad man!

Ali said...

I define childhood is being over when I stop wetting the bed. So that means for me it just ended a year ago (I had a bad episode one night when I was pregnant. Let's not go into details. Oh wait, I think I just did)

That stupid robber had a passport and followed me to Ecuador. What can I say? I'm follow-able

Rabidparadise said...

I hope Nate filled out a full police report and dusted for fingerprints! Growing up with 4 brothers & sisters meant we always had someone 'else' to blame things on. Usually my baby brother. Wait...I still do that!