Dear Grandchildren of Grandpa Boltz –
Grandpa is out in the garage trying to find an old wooden chair, table and spotlight. One of you can save him the trouble by confessing.to your sins. I know it was one of you. I just don’t know WHICH one of you.
It all started when you were all visiting Grandma Plaintiff and myself at our home. All three of you terrible little monsters were there. Any one of you could be the culprit – but I have ways of making you talk that your parents still have nightmares about. I recall seeing you arguing with each other over who got to use which marker to draw on Grandpas white board. I recall chuckling to myself. I vaguely remember going upstairs later and finding the 3 of you little rugrats spinning on the kitchen chair and driving the trio of evil witches nuts while they were trying to whip up some magic potion to quiet you all down.
The magic potion didn’t work. Oh sure, they fed it to you. More like they bribed you to choke it down. They said “If you eat it, Grandpa will give you ice cream.” THEY VOLUNTARILY COMMITTED ME TO GIVE UP MY PRECIOUS ICE CREAM. But that wasn’t the biggest sin of the day.
Grandpa Boltz gave you some of his precious sugar fix (only those allowed to have it as determined by the Wisconsin Chapter of Grandma Plaintiff and her Wicked Witches Society). I hugged you. I tickled you. I kissed you. I threw Grandma Plaintiffs sewing snowballs at your sticky cute little faces. Then I loaded you up with sugar, kissed you all and waved goodbye as your poor unsuspecting parents drove your ticking time bombs of sugar home.
All was well in my world. Grandma Plaintiff was miserable because you all said you loved me more than her. I was happy. Then I went to take my heart medicine. THERE. ON. THE. CABINET. DRAWER. THERE IT IS. PROOF. One of you little demon future Picasso wannabes had drawn a rendering of the path through the maze all over the face of my kitchen cabinet. At first I thought it must of been Grandma Plaintiff who did it… trying to get even with me for you loving me more than her … but she not only denied it, she PASSED a lie detector test. FIRST TIME EVER. So. That leaves one of you screaming little demons as the culprit. Oh, I figured it was the one of you who doesn’t have my blood line running through his/her veins, but I can’t remember which one of your mothers is actually mine and which belong to the postman, butcher, dairy farmer and car mechanic.
SAVE THE OTHERS THE PAIN AND AGONY. CONFESS. Tell me which of you did it, and I promise I’ll spare the other two of you.
Snitch on the culprit and I’ll give you ice cream.