What Else?

I shouldn't expect anything less in my house. Just going upstairs to get a midnight snack as I do my homework on a Sunday night. I get a glass of grape juice, and quite happily find a box of triscuits in the cubbord. I bring them down staires and am just about to eat on when I realize; this is not a triscuit, this is a wheat thin. What the smack is the wheat thin baggy doing in the truscuit box may I ask? Then as I think about it, there are so many exlinations of how this could have happend in my house, its not even funny. Not to mention, they are just a tincey bit stale. How perfect. Life in this house will never quite get boring.