Swedish Butter Fight

When my three brothers and I were boys living in the Stockholm suburbs, my mother left the house to go on an extended errand. We were bored, and, by coincidence, a kilo of butter was sitting on the kitchen counter at room temperature. I don’t recall precisely what triggered it, but we were soon flinging globs of oleaginous butter at one another, the counter, the walls, the floor and even the ceiling. In a final coup de grace, Bill grabbed a huge handful of the remaining butter and mashed it into Craig’s head.

Just then, we heard my mother’s car pull into the driveway, much sooner than expected. Of course, we panicked and Bill began compulsively washing Craig’s hair in the sink while Wayne and I cleaned up the walls and floors the best we could. When my mother came in, her usual eagle eye was apparently not in full operation because she smiled and commented on how nice it was that Bill was shampooing Craig’s hair. In this rare instance — it may have been the only time — we actually got away with it!

Years later, we enjoyed telling mom the story of what actually happened, and she threw her head back and erupted in gales of laughter.

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