Invincible guests

There are times I’m totally totally sure I share my two bedroom apartment with people other than my seven year old twins - Pete and Zoe. People with feet that imprints the floor with mud, magnetic fingers that attract all the candies and cookies in the jar, and of course, people that farts gaily without a care for the world.
Yes, I do believe there were invincible beings sharing our meager space with us.
But being a kind-hearted person, I’d never thought to call on ghost hunters, or spirit catchers or magnetic attractants from the outer world. I’d left them, to live and thrive. Sometimes I see the little prints of my unknown guests’ sticky fingers on the candy jar; other times, I see the prints of pumps and loafers I’d gotten my kids, tracking dirt and mud all around the house, it’s at times like this I wonder why ghosts or spirits or the forces from the magnetic world wore shoes that bore the same imprint as that of my kids, or a better question, why they had really tiny feet. Like that of a seven year old.
Reader, I know you must think I’m missing the obvious. PETE and ZOE!!!.
But I assure you, really, it isn’t either of them.
Today, there’s spilt milk on the floor. Dirty little fingers on the handle of the fridge. Wait, let me ask either of them. And so I call on Pete and Zoe, who come rushing out of the room, hair askew, faces brimming with innocence and yes – those were drops of milk on their clothes.
“Which one of you drank the milk,” I ask in my fiercest tone.
They look at each other in confusion, then back at me, “We don’t know who did it.”




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