Poet

Nobody

These phrases were often heard in our house when my five siblings and I were growing up:

Who drank all the orange juice?
Who left the bathroom light on?
Who made $300 worth of long distance calls on the house phone?
Who left the TV on?

The answer was always the same, it was Mr. Nobody.  Mr. Nobody would answer and only he would seem to have done it; none of us did.  When I moved out to Fort Worth, Texas he didn’t follow me.  I lived alone and I knew all the answers.  Everything was mine and my whole apartment was decked in my favorite colors of yellow and blue.  If I was looking for something, it was right where I left it.  It was great, because everything was me.  Then Shelly and I got married and not long after, Mr. Nobody came back.  He played even more of his tricks once Trystan was born.  Ahhhh, I had known him so long I dropped the title Mister; he was just “Nobody.”

Now that we have two children, Nobody’s been up to more mischief than ever.  Even Trystan and Zoey have befriended him.  Nobody left the dirty diapers out, Nobody spread my dirty clothes all over the house;  Nobody unraveled the toilet paper roll and Nobody took the changing mat out of the baby bag before going out.  Of course Nobody has explosive poop and Nobody forgets to turn the sink off.  Yes he’s definitely moved back into our house.  Though you think he might have driven us nuts by now, he doesn’t because…

Who gives hugs like Zoey?
Who makes Daddy more proud than Trystan?
Who is more supportive of Daddy than Mommy?
Who takes care of Mommy better than Daddy?
Who puts bigger smiles on my face than this family?
Who loves you more than I do?

…that’s right, Nobody.

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