Dead Bodies In The Wall

Your father likes to play a game. I have no idea when this particular game was invented. All I know is that ever since I've known him he's been forcing me to play along with him. Every time we go for dinner, breakfast or lunch and the bill is handed to us at the end of the meal we have to guess what the cost of the meal was. Whom ever is closest to the actual amount wins. Of course no one actually wins anything so it's not a very exciting game. And we've never ever guessed it right on except for once.

We were out for breakfast one morning and after our eggs an coffee were finished the waitress brought us our bill. I never take the game seriously, not like your father does, so i just guessed a random number that made some sense according to what we ate. When he guessed he flipped the bill over and the total on the bill was identical to the number he had guessed. I laughed because of course he practically thought it was a sign from God. I told him we should buy a lottery ticket because today was going to be a good day.

And what do you know, later that afternoon my mother called me to tell me that her best friend Donna was selling her house and if I wanted it both her and my father would give us $30,000. for the down payment.

We moved in 3 months later. It was a silly, little, dingy yellow cottage of a house but we had plans to fix it up and sell it. Shortly after we got the ownership our new home in October the renovations started. It didn't take either of us very long to realise that renovations stress me out! Your father did all the work while I provided the interior design, the meals, clean up and kisses of encouragement, not to mention random hissy fits of frustration. Your father will gladly vouch for that.

We found a giant hole in the bedroom wall underneath the cheap oak paneling that had been filled in with cement! Yes, cement. Your daddy watches too many crime investigation shows on TV and thought there must be the remains of a human cemented up in the wall and that the house would surely be haunted because of it. Thankfully I managed to convince him that the twit who filled the hole was a bit of an armature and a bit of a moron. And by Christmas I had a brand new soft yellow bedroom with crown molding and a Barbour carpet. What a pretty place to make dreams in.


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