Don't Blame Me!

I have decided that Someone Else and Wasn't Me have outstayed their welcome.
I am sick and tired of the pair of them. Putting up with their strange habits has finally driven me over the edge.
Wasn't Me has put his last grubby fingermark on my new white paintwork and Someone Else has soaked the bathroom carpet for the final time.
Both are being thrown out of the house this very weekend.
I suppose the only person to regret their departure will be my Son...in fact....I don't quite know how he will get through a single day without their company.

I well remember the day of my Son's christening many years ago. The vicar stated profoundly that we only had to teach our children to be good. But...he neglected to warn me about Someone Else and wasn't Me. Just who's resposibility were they?

Someone Else and Wasn't Me have been around since my Son reached his third birthday. I cannot remember exactly when they appeared in our household. I only know that I could cheerfully strangle the idiot who answered their knock upon the door!
At a guess I would estimate that Someone Else and Wasn't Me are roughly fifteen years of age.
They can often be heard but never seen. Preferring to vacate a room just as I am about to enter.
They are absolutely brilliant at creating a mess amd muddle but are a dead loss when it comes to tidying things away.
Someone Else is extremely fond of inducing parental wrath upon my Son. While Wasn't Me is very partial to stirring up arguments between brother and sister.

It is patently obvious that there is an all hate relationship between them and my Son.... given the amount of blame shifting that goes on daily.
I dread to think what happened in the first place to instigate such animosity.

Last week Someone Else wore his trainers to go upstairs. I know it's true because there were those tiny telltale piles of dried mud making a decorative pattern on the beige carpet.
On Monday evening Wasn't Me ate the last chocolate biscuit that I thought was safely tucked behind the tinned soup. Then, Someone Else polished off the milk so I had to forego my cocoa.
My Son was sporting a white moustache and brown sticky fingers, but he was most insistent that the blame lay at the door of the other two. Who am I to argue?

Yesterday I tidied out a large cupboard. Underneath all the suitcases, discarded vacuum cleaner brushes and outgrown clothes were several of my Son's belongings. As he had recently complained that some of his things were missing, I went to fetch him.
When I asked him who had put them in the cupboard he replied ''Don't Know''
Something tells me that Someone Else and Wasn't Me have invited a buddy to stay.
This really was the end.

For over twelve years I have taken all this nonsense. I've given them free board and lodgings and even taken them on holiday. In fact everywhere we go, they tag along.
At their hands I have suffered all kinds of embarrassment. From pushing supermarket trolleys into the ankles of little old ladies to toppling tins of paint in Homebase.

I suppose really the only solution will be to play them at their own game.

Tonight I received complaints that there wasn't any bread thawed out for sandwiches.
''Who forgot to remove the bread from the freezer?'' came the unified wail.

''S'not Myfault''....I smugly replied.