Thursday, September 15, 2022

From the Writing Archives--My House is a Crime Scene



 Agatha Christie was born on this day in 1890. She is probably the best-known mystery writer of all-time, famous her elaborate murder plots. That inspired me to pull out this old Father Knows Nothing column. It didn't quite make the final cut for my Father Knows Nothing book, but I thought you might still get a kick out of it...


I really try my best to keep the house from becoming living-in-squalor-y, but if a team of forensic scientists ever came to my house with swabs, they would find a thousand blood samples. Right now there’s a pool of dried blood on my front steps that I can’t wash away. We’ve got blood stains on nearly every sheet and pillowcase in the house. Blood stains on shirts and pants. Blood stains on gloves (paging OJ). Blood drops on the floor, the walls, and probably the ceiling.

There are days it looks like Freddy Krueger lives here.

But we’re not a family of killers, cutters, or slashers. We’re just a family that gets a ridiculous number of bloody noses. My two oldest boys don’t just get those slow-leaking bloody noses. There are days they walk in the door covered with blood from the waist up.

One day I was in the basement when Tommy came home. I heard the front door open violently, followed by an urgent thump, thump, thump, and another door slamming. When I went to investigate, I saw the trail of blood. It was all over the living room floor, the hallway floor, on two doors, and every wall in between.

I knocked on the bathroom door. “Everything OK in there?” I asked.

“Yup,” he replied. “No problem. Just a bloody nose.”

We’re very ho-hum about those now. We’ve had so many bloody noses, the boys are able to stop the bleeding themselves. Usually the only way I find out they had one is by finding the trail of blood they neglected to clean up. Sometimes I find the trail while it’s still wet. Other times I don’t see it for a few days. Still other days the gigantic pile of bloody Kleenex in the bathroom garbage can is the only clue.

That’s the main reason I can’t invite any cops over to the house.

They know a crime scene when they see one.