I have learned from my fifty-ish years of living that there is one response that releases me from any blame. Four little words that sum up my way of thinking… it’s not my fault.
It all started back in my pre-teen years so by the time Cowboy came around, I had that response mastered.
COWBOY: Tammy, did you leave a light on?
ME: It’s not my fault. We have a ghost that likes turning lights on after I leave a room.
COWBOY: Tammy, did you forget to use your credit card while shopping instead of mine?
ME: It’s not my fault. Your card jumped into the sales clerk’s hand.
COWBOY: Tammy, did you run over a rock with our new riding lawn mower?
ME: It’s not my fault. That rock wasn’t there the last time I mowed.
COWBOY: Tammy, did you forget to put the tool you borrowed back into my tool chest?
ME: It’s not my fault. I needed one like that.
COWBOY: Tammy, did you forget to lock the door behind you?
ME: It’s not my fault. Maggie left it unlocked.
COWBOY: Tammy, did you eat all of the M&M’s?
ME: It’s not my fault. They jumped into my mouth as I was passing the refrigerator.
COWBOY: Tammy, did you forget to tell me that you’re flying to Cancun for a girls weekend?
ME: It’s not my fault. Oopsie.
Okay, maybe that one is my fault.
’til next Sunday yβall- Tammyπ
