Why Things Break in my House

I will now submit to you photographic evidence of the perpetrators of breakage and destruction in my home:

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Do you know why we're remodeling? Yes, there was water damage, and yes there were mushrooms growing in a certain exchange student's carpet that he didn't know about because his floor was buried in all his crud. The real reason, however, is so this chicky-babe can have her own bathroom. I'm going to be able to sit on a commode that is not dripped on. Tampons will not take the place of dynamite sticks in imaginary play. I deserve this. Examine the evidence, and I think you'll find my case is a compelling one.

Warning: Immature Story

So we're remodeling. Our house is torn apart. Right now, the destruction has reached its apex, and after today, we begin the process on putting everything back together. Yesterday morning, a kind grandfatherly plumber cut out all our bathroom plumbing on two floors. I was on the top floor with him, going over the placement of new fixtures. To understand what I'm talking about, check out this picture: See that hole in the wall in the center? That was from an errant doorknob the day after someone ripped off the door stop. We haven't fixed it, because we didn't know if the wall was going to be ripped out. Anyway, this sets up the scene.
The plumber was in the corner with his back to me. He's measuring, when all of a sudden, there's a really loud sound: Ppppbbbbthh. I try not to react, but anyone capable of making a sound of this magnitude has extraordinary digestive capacity. Seriously, bordering on a super power. Now, I was in the line of fire. "What will he do?" I think to myself. "Will he pretend it didn't happen? Will he merely say 'excuse me'?" This is what's going through my mind when it happens again. So how did he react? Differently than I was expecting. I didn't catch what he said, but I heard the little voice that answered him. He stepped aside, and I saw a little pair of lips poking through the hole in the wall. Little L was blowing raspberries at us!
For your viewing pleasure, our nail-spiked, moldy sheet rock ridden obstacle course of death. It's a good thing it's still cold, or my boys would be tempted.

My Porcelain Throne

I need sympathy. Look at this: Can you see the only toilet in our house down amongst the debris through our floor joists? What you can't see from this picture is the freezing nature of this toilet seat. There are three windows that are open to the weather. I have to be careful to pee before I shower, because if my hiney is wet, it might freeze to the seat! The open windows made me nervous to sleep last night. I was sure some intruder was going to scale the massive mountain of nail -riddled boards, nasty moldy sheet rock, and burgundy bathroom fixtures. ( Don't you just love the burgundy sinks? You know what would make them even better? How about a burgundy toilet and tub?) I was worried about an intruder until I thought, wait, if anyone makes it over that obstacle course of death, they'd fall through the space between the joists on the floor. Phew! I still had the dog sleep in the hall. Anyone that made it over the joists would encounter Jill, our ultimate home security device.