Oil Spill Blame – It's A Kid's Story

Mrs. America was bent out of shape – really pissed. She had let her kids go to the beach for lunch only because they promised to be careful and not leave a mess. They hadn’t left the beach five minutes before her cousin in Lousiana called with the bad news. The boys had spilled their drinks and left sandwich wrappers and cups all over the beach. Even worse, they tried to cover up the mess by kicking a little sand over it.

The week had been bad enough already. Her hired help was in a squabble over the next Supreme Court justice that had nothing to do with legal ability. Not liberal enough, not conservative enough, too many Catholics and, if a certain someone was picked, why isn’t she married? The refrain to "Harper Valley PTA" was ringing through her head when she heard the boys footsteps outside.

Before she could say a word, the oldest blamed the youngest. "It was Cameron’s fault," said Billy Paul. "He was supposed to screw the top on the thermos." Cameron shot right back – "you said Bily Paul was in charge – it’s his fault. And not only that, Hal said he would clean up." "Not me," cried Billy Paul. "I distinctly remember both Tran and and Hal saying that everything was cleaned up before we left the beach. It’s their fault, as well."

"Well your aunts and uncles from the Gulf Coast aren’t too pleased. They are going to have to pay someone to clean it all up and they think you all should pay for it." "We’ll no doubt do it." "No fair." "I will clean up everything that legitimately was caused by me." "It only seems fair that the price of the cleanup be limited to the cost of lunch."

"The little bastards have lawyered up already," she thought. "Enough lame excuses – you are all going down. Go to your rooms right now. No supper and you can’t come out until your father gets home. We will see what he thinks about all of this."

Unfortunately, even though BP, Cameron, Haliburton and Transocean are all blaming each other, they don’t have to go to their rooms until Dad gets home.