Most of It is My Fault

• So, I may have been talking some smack about the Butcher never cleaning and I may have even been remarking about how the kitchen looked like there'd been a small riot and no federal, state, or local funding to aid in the cleanup, and I may have gone in there to start cleaning and realized that he'd actually done a load of dishes and picked up the recycling and put it outside, and the kitchen was still a mess because someone, and I'm not pointing fingers, has been laying around on the couch feeling sorry for herself in her spare time.
• When the Butcher asked "God damn, who keeps leaving these huge sticks in the street?" I said nothing about the girl and her pit bull who may be playing 'Do you like this stick? No? [girl tosses stick into the street] What about this one? Yes? [dog tosses stick into the street]' when they go out for their morning walks.
• Someone, again, not naming names, chastised the Butcher for leaving the cordless phone lying around so that the batteries went dead again, even though, now that she thinks about it, she was the one who left it by the couch when she was laying on said couch feeling sorry for herself.

There may be other things, but I can't recall any more than this. So, I publicly apologize to the Butcher for these three things, and more, if I need to.