So the weekend before last, some old friends came into town. We met at my friend Amy’s house and decided we had a hankering for barbecue.

Hubs and and Amy’s spouse, Walt, weren’t hungry, so they stayed behind with the kids.

When we were done eating, I called to see how things were going. Walt answered.

“So, have my kids destroyed your house yet?” I joked.

“Oh, no, they’re fine,” Walt replied.

Imagine my surprise, then, when a few hours later, Hubs informed me that the E-man had shattered the glass in a large picture hanging over Walt and Amy’s mantle.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “How could he reach that?”

“Well, he was sitting on the mantle,” Hubs replied, as though small children perched on a mantle are an everyday sight.

“What? How did he get on the mantle?” I asked.

“I put him there,” Hubs said. “He was afraid of the dogs.”

“Uh, you do realize that’s a little strange, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if our friends came over and put one of their kids up on our mantle, wouldn’t you find that a little odd?”

“Well … maybe.”

“Think about it. You put our 5-year-old on someone’s MANTLE.”

“Well, everything would have been fine if he hadn’t hit it with his hand.”

“Did it occur to you that putting a 5-year-old on someone’s mantle is kind of like begging for an accident to happen.”

“He was fine up there. I put Tootie up there too. She loved it.”

Oh great. So my husband decided both of our children would make for great mantle decor. No wonder we’re such sought-after guests. Sheesh. You know you want us at your next party. Really.