Stuff seems to only happen when I get into the shower. I'm in the shower, fairly helpless, when the screaming starts, or I hear the sounds-of an unthinkable crash, or glass breaking, or something. I call up my most horrible terrifying voice and turning up the volume, yell, "William!" That's safe, because it's usually him anyway. I race through the most comfortable and probably the only alone time of my whole day and go running out into the hall wearing nothing but a hand towel.
This happened to me yesterday. BANG! What was that? I thought. BANG! BANG! BANG! "WILLIAM!" No answer, unless you count BANG BANG BANG. I hurried through my hair and slid wet out into the hall, "What's that noise?" I yell. Sean was planted firmly in front of Phineas and Ferb and was, as always, oblivious to all going on around him. William was standing in the lving room looking up at me. "What was that noise?" I repeated. He put on his most earnest look and I steeled myself for something bizarre (he's very creative). He said, "I think it was the refrigerator self destructing." That was pretty ominous, considering that our refrigerator, although fairly new, didn't come with that oh-so-useful feature, "self-destruct mode."
Our neighbors are already pretty shell shocked just from living next to us, so I figured I'd better get dressed and not go streaking through the house. I couldn't remember if the blinds were open, after all. "Stay right there," I ordered, pointing a finger at him for emphasis. "I will be down in a minute."
I was down in a minute or less. All looked normal as I approached the fridge. I wondered if I should open the door. I did, but nothing jumped out at me. I looked in the freezer, and all looked well. And frozen. Then I looked in the fridge side again and saw a drink pouch at the bottom where it might pretty effectively block the door from shutting properly. "Were you just slamming this door over and over, trying to get it to close?" "Yeah, it wouldn't close," he said. "There is a drink pouch in the way, keeping the door from closing," I pointed out. "Yeah, it wouldn't close," he said again.
A few hours later, I was getting something out of the fridge, off one of the shelves on the door-then I see. The whole inside of the door was sprayed with soy sauce. Once upon a time, the cap broke off that bottle of soy sauce, and so it has sat there, capless, for a long time. Capless, but still safe. Until yesterday, when a kid couldn't get the door to close and so slammed it continuously, sloshing soy sauce all over the inside of the door. My apologies to soy sauce lovers everywhere.