I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody's house!
There's no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree
That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr. Nobody
'Tis he who always tears our books,
Who leaves the door ajar,
He pulls the buttons from our shirts,
And scatters pins afar;
That squeaking door will always squeak,
For, prithee, don't you see,
We leave the oiling to be done
By Mr. Nobody
The finger marks upon the door
By none of us are made;
We never leave the blinds unclosed,
To let the curtains fade.
The ink we never spill; the boots
That lying round you see
Are not our boots - they all belong
To Mr. Nobody
All of us have those types of permanent house guests in our home. In addition to "Not Me" and "I don't know", "I didn't do it!" weighs in heavily as a potential trouble maker around here. His name is usually the one shouted at the tops of everyone's lungs right after we hear a big crash.
As a side note - when she was very young (say 3 or 4), Beenie's standard answer when you ask her anything was, "I know nothing". I used to accuse hubby of watching Hogan's Heroes re-runs with her in the room. Of course, he didn't - as he pointed out, the re-runs didn't come on until late in the evening, but I could just hear Schultz in my head every time she did that.