Saturday morning, I woke up to a phone call saying, “I cannot believe what happened to your house! Are you mad?” No one likes to wake up to a call like that. In a panic, I raced to the front door to see what happened. Imagining the worst, I flung open the door to see every part of my house and front yard engulfed in a glorious white covering of toilet paper. If it was stationary, it was covered.
My reaction to the blinding white of toilet paper covering my house? I laughed.
When I was a young teenager, your house got “wrapped” (or TP’d or rolled) because someone was being mean. As my teen years went on, it became a sign of adoration. If you were a football player, cheerleader, or just well liked, you were sure to get wrapped at some point. Of course, it has been a few years since those days, so I had to ask myself, “Is this good or bad?” (As it turns out, it is back to being a good thing, unless of course there was vandalism.)
Many of my friends called asking if I was mad. In all honesty, I was not at all upset. If anything, I have say that I was impressed by the quality of the job. Not one square inch of tree, shrub, or stationary object was free of toilet paper.
But I was far from being mad. And I was surprised that my friends were shocked by my attitude towards the event. It was just toilet paper. Why would that make me mad?
My daughter giggled and ran outside to see the “pretty mess” of our yard. She twirled around and announced, “It is so pretty!”
I sent a photo to my son (whose friends were no doubt behind it) and asked him if he knew anything about it. He just so happened to be out of town when we got received this “honor.” (Being the blogger that I am, I refused to let my husband clean any of it up until I took pictures.)
As I stood in front of my house to document the event for my absent son, people would drive by and ask if they could also take a picture. (I told you the kids did a quality job!) It was a beautiful morning and it was spent outside with my husband and daughter in the fresh air. Sure, we were cleaning up a mess, but it was time we spent together laughing.
Each of us started to take the credit on behalf of our friends.
“I am so loved, my friends did it!” declared my 7-year-old daughter. (Very unlikely seeing as it happened after midnight when most of her friends were tucked in for the night. Not to mention they were way too short to pull this off.)
“No,” I responded. “It was my Bunko friends. They were bored without a Bunko night.” My daughter laughed and told me my friends were too old to do something like that. It became a joke to point the finger at the least likely candidates.
Seeing as we live on a major road, I find it hard to believe that no one saw this being done. When I brought that up to my husband, he responded (knowing me all too well) that if I were to see kids doing that, I would not stop them but would probably just point out areas where they missed a spot. (He was right.)
All in all, it turned out to be a fun morning. We laughed. We spent time outside. We enjoyed each others’ company. But seeing how my reaction seems to be in the minority, I have to ask you. Would something like this make you mad?