(my question to the General Populace that is my family)
"How did you know it was me?" says Max (which immediately tells me I was correct to look at him when asking this question).
"What were you doing to get little flicks of butter on the window?" I repeated. "And why didn't you clean it up?"
"Huh?" he says, looking puzzled. (obviously my questions are too complex)
"Where did the butter come from?" I ask again. This time I fix my Patented Mother Glare on him. Never fails me, the PMG.
"Uh, um...well...I didn't actually KNOW there was butter on the window," he mumbles, in between giggles. Apparently this is a hysterically funny topic, although I feel a bit left out of all the hilarity.
"But you know it was you, right?" I say.
"Um, what?" he says. More laughter. I am feeling the tedium of the moment, rather.
"BUTTER! WINDOW! WHEN! HOW!" I shout. It gratifies me immensely to see them all look up suddenly, instead of falling about the table laughing at the idea of butter being on the windows. Circular discussions are so not high on my list of Amusing Things To Do.
"Oh!" he says, light dawning on his face. "Right! The butter! Um, I think it was from my remote helicopter. It fell in the butter. The rotors sprayed a bit and I think I saw some butter fly away. I didn't see where it went but I think it went in that general direction." He waves his hand, encompassing the entirety of the south-facing kitchen wall.
He pauses and looks at me, triumphant. For what, exactly, I'm not sure.
"Oh," I say. "So, um, you just left the butter for me to clean up, is that right?"
"Well, yeah, I guess," he says. "I couldn't actually find it so I didn't think there was any."
We look at each other. He smiles hopefully. I continue with my PMG. The twins are on the floor, laughing so hard they can barely breathe.
He thought he saw the helicopter fall in butter, rotors twirling. He thought he saw some butter fly away. He thinks he saw it land on something.
But he couldn't actually find it. I guess that's MY job.