We woke up to our house having been toilet papered. Again. This is probably the 3rd time since the ill-fated, amateur event I shared with you. These times the perps have been more professional (at least in the front trees), if not prolific.
Once our van, Flo--which Taylor drives--was covered in mustard or fry sauce or something. That wasn't so cool. He loved that.
He loves the TP, too. (A bit of a stick-in-the-mud, that one.)
I must admit that when I woke up and opened the drapes to this glorious morning, my first two thoughts were:
1. Seriously? Not AGAIN!
2. What's the good of having a dog if she won't even tell us when something like this is happening?
And so, to all of you boys--and especially to their parents--circa 1985-1988, please accept my sincere apologies.
- I hope you understand, in spite of your frustration, that it was done in the spirit of love.
- I'm sorry you had to clean up your yard. And the neighbors' yards. And the street. At all times of the year.
- I'm sorry that you had flags of tp in the tops of your trees for weeks at a time.
On the other hand, how can you not laugh at this?
*sigh* If only we'd had colorful window paint when I was a teen.
3 comments:
There's a good reason your mother never told you about window paint. :) Picture me walking away singing....."the ciiiirrrcle of LIIIIIIIIIIIIIFE!!!!!!!!!!!" :)
OH the days of toilet papering...You are so much more patient about things like that:)
Dray,
DO NOT, under any circumstance, declare from the pulpit that TP-ing is banned. We know what happened to Bishop Baughman's house when we were kids. Just roll with it. It will all be over soon. :)
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