You see, it would be this mat...and would have CONCLUSIONS written on it that you could JUMP TO

If Tom Smykowski from Office Space ever raises the seed money to manufacture his Jump to Conclusions Mat, and you decide you want to play, you don't want to play against me. I am the master of Jump to Conclusions. Or maybe you would want to play with me. You be the judge:

So, I was driving to the grocery store to buy Hot Pockets and sour cream (and nothing else) when I noticed a spectacle on the street. In front of one neighbor's house were three very LARGE trucks. Like large moving trucks, and plastered all over the trucks, bigger than hell, was their logo and advertisements as a carpet cleaning company that specializes in REMOVING PET ODORS. That selling point was heavily emphasized on all three trucks, which were so cluttered with information that it looked like they had been decorated by a child who loves stickers way too much. Neighbors down the street are standing in their yards scratching their heads, and I bet they're wondering the same thing I'm wondering: What in the hell happened in that house that would necessitate three enormous trucks to clean it up? I guess the obnoxious trucks serve as a great marketing tool for the business, but for the home owners, it's like posting a memo in the neighborhood newsletter that says "Our house is vile. Seriously. Do not go in there."

I mean, I have no idea what transpired in that house leading up to the carpet cleaner's arrival, but I think they should just move. Did somebody hose down the entire house with urine or something? In case you have forgotten, I have three mutts and a baby, and even I have to I ask myself what terrible thing would have to happen inside my home to require such drastic measures. Maybe if we returned from a week-long vacation to discover a rotting carcass in our living room. Then again, I probably would just rip out the carpet in the unlikely event of such stench. Oh no, I hope there wasn't a dead body in there. That would be unfortunate.

As I return home, Hot Pockets and sour cream in tow, I take another close look at the trucks in search of clarity. A subtle banner across the top of the truck reads, "Flood Repair". Oh. Yeah. Flood repair. That makes a lot more sense. And is a lot less sinister and gross. Why do I immediately jump to the worst possible conclusion? Flood damage never crossed my mind, but dead hobos and garden hoses filled with urine did. Does that even exist? What in the hell is wrong with me?

In a related note, the last time I took Robinson for a stroll in a nearby neighborhood, I saw a house that still had its Christmas lights up. I decided that everyone in that house was dead.