So, my parents admitted to planting the three gnomes which mysteriously appeared in our garden last week.
Not only did they deliver the gnomes, however, my dad actually CLIMBED OVER OUR FENCE in order to leave them there. Apparently they thought it “wouldn’t be right” to let themselves into the house while we weren’t there (Note: I’ve told them this is perfectly fine, by the way, as long as they take some laundry with us when they leave…), but they DID want to leave us the gnomes, so now every time I look at those little guys, I imagine my dad scaling a 6-foot fence with them on his back. And, I mean, they probably weren’t ACTUALLY on his back at the time. I’m going to imagine they were anyway, though, because, well, it’s funnier that way, no?
With that mystery solved, then, Terry and I were all ready to welcome the three little gnomes into our lives, and move on. Then on Sunday morning, I was, once again, making coffee in the kitchen, when I looked outside and saw this:
Now that is one mean old gnome, I’m sure you’ll agree.
“Is it… digging a GRAVE?” I asked Terry incredulously, as we stood staring at in horror. “Is it a SKELETON GNOME?”
“Yup,” conformed Terry, examining the evidence. “And the little guys look totally freaked out by it, too!”
The ‘little guys’ weren’t the only ones. I mean, seriously: that’s one scary-ass gnome, and somehow this time I DIDN’T think my parents were involved. It just didn’t seem like their style. Well, I mean, leaving gnomes in the garden is TOTALLY their style, obviously: but those gnomes were CUTE gnomes. My parents have only ever left cute items for me to find in unexpected places. Ducks. Gnomes. Er… just ducks and gnomes, actually, but surely that’s enough?
Nevertheless, their history with gnomes DID make them the prime suspects, so I sent my mum a photo of the latest arrival, and later got her on the phone, so I could gauge for myself how guilty she sounded.
“Oh, no!” said my mum at once. “That wasn’t us. We’d NEVER leave a gnome in your garden!”
“Mum,” I pointed out patiently, “You left THREE GNOMES in my garden just last week. OF COURSE you would leave a gnome in my garden!”
“Oh, well, that was totally different,” said my mum. “Those were cute gnomes. That one’s obviously evil. You only have to look at it.”
She was right. And honestly? I think she’s telling the truth. I really don’t think my parents would’ve left such an evil looking gnome, and even if evil gnomes WERE their style, they couldn’t have anyway, because we were actually WITH them during the timeframe we reckon it must have appeared.
Which leaves me with the question: who left the latest gnome in my garden?
At the moment, the two chief suspects are our friends Danny and Steven: either separately, or working together. They both deny it, of course, but then again, THEY WOULD, wouldn’t they? Would YOU admit to leaving a gnome like this in someone’s garden? No, seriously: would you admit to it? WAS IT YOU? Because as of right now, EVERYONE’S a suspect…