Friday, June 10, 2011

(Oh) No, You Don't

"No, dude, seriously, I was like this close to Kage's ass,
all I had to do was open my mouth..."

Smiling in thier faces
While filling up the hole
So many dirty little places
In your filthy little worn out
Broken down see-through soul

Baby's got a problem
Tries so hard to hide
Got to keep it on the surface
Because everything else is dead on the other side

~ Nine Inch Nails

“Hey, isn’t that my sweater?”

I froze in front of my computer screen for a moment, then looked over my shoulder at M and assumed the expression of an innocent cherub. “Mmmmmmm?" I said with an angelic smile. "What was that, my love?”

“My sweater,” M repeated crossly, pulling a black hoody down from a shelf in my closet. “Isn’t this my sweater?”

“Oh. No, I don’t think so,” I said politely, then cast around quickly for a diversion. “Oh my god, baby,  did you see that? What the dogs just did? Baaaaaaaby? Did you see? What the dogs just did? It was incredible! Come over here, you gotta see this!”

I ran over to the dogs and gestured at them excitedly, though all three of them were just lying there in a motionless heap on the floor, doing nothing at all. Except snoring and drooling.

“Hey, this one’s mine too!” M exclaimed, ignoring my desperate Jazz Hand-ed attempts to attract his attention, and pulling down another thick black hoody from the depths of my wardrobe. “And this one.” A purple hoody with the cuffs cut off tumbled to the floor, followed by an emerald green one with long, holey arms; my personal favorite.  A blue one with a bright metal zipper was close behind.

He turned to stare at me, exasperated. “Kage, just how many sweaters have you stolen from my house in the past few weeks?” He tossed the multicolored bundle onto my bed.

“That’s it, just five,” I said haughtily, my hand on my hip. “Jeez, talk about selfish.You can’t let me borrow five goddamn sweaters, M? I mean, really. I am simply appalled by your lack of charity.”

“Nine, ten, eleven...” M counted, returning to the closet and pulling down a wildly patterned Rip Curl sweatshirt, followed by a black-and-purple Billabong zip-up. A big black pullover with his band's logo splashed across the front teetered precariously on the edge of the now almost empty shelf.

“That one’s mine,” I piped up helpfully.

He turned to look at me, shaking his head in amazement. "No, it's not."

I looked down at my hands, suddenly enamored with the shape and condition of my nails.

“Oh my god, what is this?” he demanded, and reached into the far depths of my closet.  He turned back to me and waved a glittering, hot pink zip-up hoody. Brightly embroidered flowers and rainbows decorated the chest in sporadic fashion, and the short capped sleeves were edged with lace. He unfolded it and held it against his chest, which, even with the capped sleeves pulled all the way out to each side, fell at least eight inches short of reaching across the breadth of his torso.

M narrowed his eyes suspiciously and peered more closely at the sparkly abomination splayed out on his chest. “Kage, this tag...does it say Please, Mum?” he asked incredulously.

I anxiously began chewing on my bottom lip, then glanced up at the white stucco ceiling for inspiration,  or maybe an escape route. Instead, I looked into the eyes of my Henry Rollins poster, who glared back down upon me broodily.

Help me, Henry, I thought desperately, and cleared my throat.

“Okay, I realize what this looks like,” I began, winding my fingers together as I tried to find the right words to explain, but they were nowhere to be found. Where the hell did they go?

“It looks like you stole a sweater from my three-year-old daughter, that’s what it looks like,” he grinned.

Oh, there's the right words, I thought uneasily. They’re coming out of his mouth. 

I couldn't think of anything clever to say, so I stood up and walked sheepishly to the closet, where I grabbed a plastic bag from one of the small drawers on it's inside wall. I went back to the bed and started cramming in the recently-recovered stolen goods.

“Aw, baby, I was just kidding,” M chastised gently, watching me grab another plastic bag. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No, M, I do,” I said earnestly. “I should never have taken your sweaters home without your permission. What I did was wrong.”

“Wow,” he looked impressed. “There’s really sweet of you to give them back, babe. I’ll just run this first load out to the car, then.”

I grinned broadly to myself as he walked outside to his car. M was right, it was sweet of me to give back  all of his sweaters.

After all, I can’t steal them all again if they’re still at MY house.



  1. Yep you made a good point, you can't steal them again if they are in your closet.

  2. I have to say I liked the story. I also have to say that your color scheme isn't very colorblind friendly.

  3. That sounds like a fun little game. Good on you for getting so many in your possession before you were found out. Girls got skillz!

  4. So do you like to stroke woolly things then? Maybe he should get you a pet llama.

  5. haha, loved this! the stealing of the sweaters is actually pretty sweet in itself i think. :)

  6. I'm still stuck back there on your jazz hands....

    Awesome post Kagey. You had me right there in that room with you.

  7. "It looks like you stole a sweater from my three year old daughter, that's what this looks like." hahahahaha. I laughed so hard I cried. This was greatness. You and your sticky fingers! naughty naughty, Kage!

    So, I have a proposition for you. Would you be interested in writing something truly naughty for my second blog? I know you have it in you. Maybe something about you and your lover Henry? Think about it and then email me.

    You know you wanna! ;)


  8. That's so foreign to me, all those sweaters. I'm jealous. it's 101 here today. BS!!!!

  9. I steal children's sweaters also, but according to the Denver Police Department, that's "theft" and I now have to register as a "sex offender."

  10. I see that M has gotten over his parents bullshittery?

  11. Hahah Oh Kagey!

    Not going to gank one of the kidlets jackets when you come over are ya?

    Good thing you're so hot hey?

  12. Oh my...bad girl!
    Isn't it annoying when dogs just sit there and don't do crazy dog stuff just when you need the distractions??

  13. awesomely written, and a very sweet voice. um, but how the heck did M not notice his missing hoard, he is certainly some kinda hoody whore. This whole bit is so un-Kagey Cute!

  14. Bloody hell chick ... what do you do with all those sweaters once you have nicked them? I mean, there are only so many that a gal can wear ;-)

  15. what a great story and i love that you returned them with the intentions of stealing them again..perfect.
    Everyday Life

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