Regarding The Love of My Life

Ok, let me first tell you that I would never leave a bottle of red lamp oil just sitting on the floor of the office. So that leaves four other people in my house that might. Three, really since it's unfair to count Calvin.

I walked into the office a little while ago to check my e-mail. It's not so much an office, really. The computer is in it with all David's office equipment, but so is the dryer and all the clean, folded (and unfolded) laundry. Maybe "office" is a good name for it since it's just as much David's office as it is mine. We affectionally call it The Brown Room (the walls are brown--gosh we're creative).

Before I could sit down in front of the computer I noticed that a bottle of red lamp oil was lying on it's side on the floor. Underneath it was a small pile of computer disks from David's clients. If I am not mistaken, these disks are irreplaceable audio files for David to edit, re-burn send back to the client. Don't get me wrong, I say "irreplaceable" not only because they are important. I'm serious, the guys that record them don't actually save what they record onto anything else. These disks are the only copies. And, of course, they are now covered in red lamp oil.

Like I said, I would never leave a bottle of lamp oil on the floor. The last time I saw the bottle it was on a shelf too hight for the kids to reach. My suspicion on who left it there? Well, let me just tell you that the kitchen scissors are also on the floor--underneath David's chair, where he placed them after he used them to trim his toenails while we watched a movie last night.

Because nothing says "Date Night" like trying to watch a Jane Austen film adaptation through the snow of your husband's flying toenail clippings.