Lauren lectured as we went in search of her little stuffed panda bear. For a while now, she is convinced that some one comes in the middle of the night to move things around, namely, to put them away.
I don't understand why it never occurred to her that I am the culprit. The one who, you know, would try to straighten things up after she goes to bed. Like a good house wife doing her bit. Create some structure in an (almost) organized room. When I told her I am the person who "move things around", she refused it. It was not a valid answer. Is it that I just don't look the straitening type? That the laundry may wait a day or two (or five) before they get folded and put away? Is it because I look too relaxed when hurricane Evelyn and cyclone Lauren whips the room into disarray? Should I make more noise when I clean up? Should I do a time sheet and sign in every time I do so?
It is very cute how she skips over the obvious and came up with a romanticized version of explanation.
We eventually found the panda on the floor of the room covered by two blankets. "See, I told you," Lauren continued, "when I went to sleep, I hug her like this on my bed!" She showed me how she laid in bed with the panda snug in her arms, three inches away from where we found it. "Okay," I told her with a smile, "perhaps Dobby came and moved it. Naughty Dobby."
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