This dinner is already not going well because Manwich saw fit to make a Bourbon Barbeque version of their Sloppy Joe mix in an uncannily similar package. Why would you do that to me, Manwich?? This exotic flavor is summarily rejected by the kids.
“Oh hey, I forgot to tell you,” I mention to Steven, “over at the four way intersection by the neighborhood there was a state trooper sitting there.”
Steven replies,”Hmm, that’s weird. Do you think it had anything to do with the Murder House?”
See, a while ago, there was a house close to the neighborhood where a dude was murdered. There were news trucks out there for a few days. At the time when the kids asked about all the news trucks and cop cars, we said someone got hurt but they’re going to be okay. Little white lies, people.
Now we’re back to . . .
“Do you think it had anything to do with the Murder House?”
Steven pauses. I pause. Wait. Maybe it went in one ear and out the other. Maybe Lydia didn’t hear. I look at Steven. He looks at me, deer in the headlights.
I hear a gasp.
“Murder House?!” exclaims Lydia.
Nuts. She heard.