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: