Usual Suspect

I'm a teenager. Therefore, I'm the Usual Suspect in our house.

I wouldn't be so bothered by this except that I've always been the Usual Suspect, and have no hope of growing out of it until the Teacher can admit that she has anterograde amnesia.

Yesterday morning, while I was on the computer, the Teacher was hunting around her door and on the floor. "Peaches!" she said. "Where's my [embarrassing piece of clothing]?!"

"What do you mean, where's your [embarrassing piece of clothing]?" I returned. "I wouldn't touch your [embarrassing piece of clothing] with a ten foot pole!" (Which isn't exactly true, since I also do laundry in this house, so I probably have touched it at some point, but it made my point.)

Every time the Teacher or the Principal lose, forget, or misplace anything, from embarrassing pieces of clothing to forks or miniature keyboards or keys- keys are a favorite- they always ask me where it is. I'm the Usual Suspect and back-up memory rolled in one.

This is annoying. Someday I will have my revenge. It will involve hamsters. Because hamsters are cute and mildly insane. (Why else do we keep them in lifetime solitary confinement in impenetrable rolling balls?)