Mr. Nobody

There are some days where I feel as though we must be the source for all the Mr. Nobody-s of the world.  Amazing things happen in our home that seem to happen all by themselves since every single person under the roof disavows any knowledge at all.  Somewhere up in the attic must be the Mr. Nobody laboratory where new Mr. Nobody-s are created.  We then provide the training ground for teaching the new Mr. Nobody-s how to do their stealthy work before they are sent around the world to other unsuspecting homes.  At least that's the only explanation that makes sense if one really believes the protestations of my children.  Perhaps we need a lesson in Occam's Razor... where the simplest explanation is often the correct one.

Do you know Mr. Nobody?  It's one of my favorite poems to quote at my children.

Mr. Nobody
Author: Unknown

I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,

Who does the mischief that is done

In everybody's house!

There's no one ever sees his face,

And yet we all agree

That every plate we break was cracked

By Mr. Nobody

`Tis he who always tears our books,

Who leaves the door ajar,

He pulls the buttons from our shirts,

And scatters pine afar;

That squeaking door will always squeak,

For, prithee, don't you see,

We leave the oiling to be done

By Mr. Nobody

The finger marked upon the door

By none of us are made;

We never leave the blind unclosed,

To let the curtains fade.

The ink we never spill; the boots

That lying round you. See

Are not our boots they all belong

To Mr. Nobody.

ps.  P18 (my 'other' daughter) has some new posts up on her blog.