I think I was looking for Tylenol. I opened the medicine cabinet and there it was.
It was molded into a ball that resembled a Hostess Snowball (without the pink coconut). And it was an open invitation to ants, roaches, and any other Florida livestock with a sweet tooth.
But, who put it there? Obviously, one of the kids, who were about 3 and 8 at the time. But which one?
My first inclination was Linda. She had recently been exhibiting some very odd behavior. Case in point: the mysterious odor in the bathroom. Of course, one would expect to smell poop in a bathroom, but the smell usually goes away with a flush. This smell was quite persistent.
It had been driving me nuts for days. I’d walk into the girls' bathroom several times a day, searching for the source, flushing to no avail.
Then I noticed the unzipped sandwich baggie in the trash can next to the toilet. It contained somebody's poop (probably Linda's, although one can never be sure in these matters). Linda had watched me clean up after our dog Bluie using plastic bags. She thought she’d clean up after herself the same way. Apparently, she went fishing. You get the picture.
(Good thing Bluie didn't have a PooTrap. God only knows what she would have tried.)
So I figured Linda was the culprit. But then again, Kimmy had been going through this weird “potions” phase at the time. She fancied herself a mad scientist of sorts and had started creating “potions” made of a wide variety of ingredients (ketchup, soda, dirt, sun block). I was constantly finding bowls of fermenting potions under beds, in tubs, and in closets.
"Hey Frankenstein, clean up this potion. If someone kicks it over on the carpet, no TV for a year!"
My threats fell on deaf ears.
So it was a toss-up. Could have been either.
Or perhaps it was a conspiracy.
The following is a condensed version of the 30 minute interrogation that transpired:
Me: “Girls, come here! Who put this balled up piece of cake in the Medicine Cabinet”
Kimmy: “Not me!”
Linda “Not me!”
Me: “OK, tell the truth. I just want to know. Which one of you did this?”
Kimmy: “Mom! I would never do that!!”
Me: “OK, Linda did you do this?”
Me: “Then how did it get there? It couldn’t have grown feet and walked there by itself” (I learned that one from my own Mom.)
Kimmy: ”Daddy must have put it there.”
Me: “Daddy wouldn’t have put a piece of cake in the medicine cabinet in your bathroom. Why would he do that?”
Linda: “I think Bluie did it”.
Me: “Bluie doesn’t have thumbs.” (It’s exhausting trying to reason with a 3-year old).
After about 20 minutes I decided to call for reinforcements. “Oh Yeah? Well, let’s let Daddy figure it out! DAVE!!!! WE NEED YOU!”
Dave wandered in.
I was shaking with frustration. Completely worn down.
Me: “Look what I found in the medicine cabinet in the girls’ bathroom. This balled up piece of cake sitting right next to the toothpaste. And both girls deny doing it.”
Dave looked at Linda. “Linda, why’d you do it?”
Linda: “Because I’m sorry.”
I was stunned. How did he do that?
That's my husband: Sherlock Stinkin' Holmes. Nothing gets past him. Not even a balled up piece of cake behind a mirror.