Parents Are Away, Time To Play

My parents come home from the camping trip I supposedly orchestrated myself out of to house sit and have decadent parties, or so they think.

It does not matter how old you are, when you are under your parents roof, for whatever reason, you are a horny teenager looking to get into trouble.

When they arrive home:

My Mother will inevitably search the house for signs of guests. She will see the beach towel I placed on one of the porch chairs and think it was from a late night scrub and rub in the hot tub, when in actuality, I put it their because one of the cats took a tinkle on it. And even though I cleaned it with tilex, I didn't want to sit directly on it.

My father will head directly for the downstairs bar and wine cellar, which he locked, to check for sign of break ins. And even when he doesn't find signs of knife wounds and pb and j on the door jam, he will count his stock of dusty wines.

They will interrogate my cats, looking for doped up eyes and signs of frolicking feline paw prints on carpets throughout the house. They will search for mounds of fur balls on beds, sofas, and fresh laundry.

Because I was bored, I did the laundry and cleaned the house but the neuroses of my parents will inevitably have them view this as a sad attempt at hiding the remnants of a Bacchus wine party.

They will even go as far as seeing this post as further evidence to my cover up.

So, I must confess:

I doped up the cats and let them loose in the house
Broke into the wine cellar with a cheese knife
Drank the chateau margaux and replaced it with cherry koolaid and recorked the bottles
Partied naked in the hot tub with AIG execs
Ordered call girls and male strippers on the Amex card

and I hired a full cleaning staff to hide the evidence.

As a teenager, I would have just ordered a keg and hit up myspace friends but I am older now and not the teenager my parents still think I am.

Blondes are all grown up now!!

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