Household whodunnit -- the amazing mysteries of living with someone!

When you live by yourself, you always know who got poop on the bathroom wall. It was you. You got poop on the bathroom wall. I don't know how, but you managed it. Good job.

But when you live with another person, mysteries can run a little deeper. I mean, you still always know WHO committed the crime (if it wasn't me, then -- spoiler alert -- it was probably you), but there are still unanswered questions as to just exactly how they managed it. Questions that are sometimes worth asking, and sometimes better suited to wild speculation. Naturally, I'm sticking with wild speculation in this post.

Here are a few of the mysteries that I've had to put on my thinking cap to get to the bottom of around our house:

The Case of the Crooked Bath Mat

In our downstairs bathroom, there is a lovely bath mat that matches the towels. It sits in front of the cabinet with the sink, flush against the bottom of it.

Somehow, almost every time I looked into that bathroom, the mat was no longer flush against the bottom of the cabinet and was instead crooked and misplaced. So I would go in there and fix it, because my anal retentiveness requires that the mat be flush against the motherf**king cabinet. (and if it's not at right angles with the wall I'm going to lose my f**king mind).

And then I would look into the bathroom again later, and lo and behold, the damn mat would be crooked again. What gives??

I mean, think about it: how would the mat become crooked? You go into the bathroom, use the toilet, wash your hands, leave. Standing on it, even walking on it, would not cause it to move like that. It's got that sticky crap on the bottom to help it grip the floor. No part of using the bathroom should involve shaking your bon-bon forcefully enough to move the bath mat. And yet the bath mat was continuously getting moved.

My theory? Jesse likes to practice twerking in the mirror in that bathroom, and his violent gyrating causes the mat to move. Open and shut case.

Unfortunately, my hidden camera hasn't caught anything you'd want to watch, so please enjoy this gif instead.

The Mystery of the Missing Spoons

When we got married, we received a set of flatware as a wedding present. Service for eight.

That means we started out with eight spoons.

So imagine my surprise when one day I opened the silverware drawer and found that there were only five spoons remaining? What happened to the other three spoons? Where could they have vanished to?

Uh, I think we all know the answer to that: Jesse melted them all chasing the dragon in the garage. He told me he was "brewing beer." I should have known something was up when there was never any beer.

Point taken.

The Inside-out Sock Enigma

Jesse's socks go into the wash inside-out 100% of the time. He is incapable of taking off any sock without turning it inside-out. Now, ankle socks I can understand -- you grab the heel and peel them off your foot and they turn inside-out.

But knee socks???? You see, Jesse wears knee socks as part of his uniform every day, and it is truly a mystery to me as to how these manage to turn inside out every time. The easiest way to remove a knee sock is to first push the top of the sock down to your ankle, and then to grab the toe and pull off the sock. 

What kind of back-asswards sock-removal technique is Jesse employing that manages to turn all his knee socks inside-out?!

Ah, atop a flaming semi racing down the freeway at top speed. An excellent choice.

Who Squeezed the Toothpaste from the Middle?

Well, it sure as shit wasn't me.

Oh goddammit. That motherf**ker. I should have known.

(And if you haven't met our ghost, please introduce yourselves via this post. He's kind of a dick.)