Squawk. Squeal. Thump. Bang. Splash.

Welcome to the Bedtime Brush.

“Boys, if I have to come in there…” I put down the mountain of school notices and head down the hall. Once again, the twins have mistaken tooth-brushing for a high-cardio, maximum-impact sport.

“Settle down and brush your teeth!” I pound at the door. Heaven forbid we go through this every night. Whoever coined the phrase, “calm before the storm” wasn’t raising ten-year-old boys. Stop by at bedtime, and you’re more apt to find “storm before the calm.” I’m back in the kitchen when I hear the one sound a mother is programmed to fear: a sound considerably louder than a squawk or a squeal and decisively more serious than a thump or a splash.

“SMASH!”

My heart stops. Good grief. What have they done now? I suck in a breath and bang on the door. Eden pokes out his head and slowly lowers the water gun.

“Wasn’t me.”

I push the door open and find Indigo, water gun in one hand and the ghost of a glass teddy-bear tumbler in the other. Besides water on the mirror, ceiling, and walls, there’s red and white glass all over the tiled floor.

“Wasn’t me.”

I look at their bare, little feet and frantically airlift them over the debris.

“No,” I say as I give them the eyebrows of doom, “It must have been me.”

So, my question is this… as an evolved and intelligent society, what’s with the “Wasn’t Me” disease? Directly linked and synonymous with the “It’s Not My Fault” disorder, this deny-dodge-and-deflect phenomena is reaching staggering proportions. Can we talk about personal responsibility?

In a world where governments can sue cigarette makers for billions in health-care costs because members of our country choose to smoke, or lawyers are hammering lawsuits on the fast food industry in an attempt to blame them for the surging obesity crisis? Who isn’t passing the buck? If you stick it in your mouth, aren’t you even a tiny bit liable for the consequences? I ask you again… How far does personal responsibility go?

I think of the broken glass and shudder. Could the government step in and sue me for providing a teddy bear glass to ten-year-old boys in a ceramic-tiled bathroom when there are water guns in the house? Am I directly responsible for the health care costs associated with the endangerment and well being of their ten little toes?

I don’t know the answer, so I do some research on the Web and find some helpful suggestions on determining our level of personal responsibility and how to refrain from blaming others for our misfortune. To start off, let’s ask ourselves a few questions:

How easy is it to blame others for where I am today?

How easy is it to accept that I am responsible for the choices in my life?

How frequently do I feel sorry for myself?

If you’re beginning to feel grossly uncomfortable, then I’d say it’s time we do the following:

Acknowledge that you are solely responsible for the choices in your life including how you feel or think.

Point the finger of responsibility back to yourself when discussing the consequences of your actions.

Take preventive health steps by structuring your life with time management, stress management, and burnout prevention.

The answer seems abundantly clear. I need to take responsibility for giving the boys the glass, and the boys need to take responsibility for breaking it. In a global sense, we all have some responsibility in the way our society functions and evolves. Let’s put those pointing fingers aside.

I do a search on the number of internet pages containing the words “It wasn’t me” and “It’s not my fault.” My heart sinks. Combined, there is three-and-a-half million.

Fortunately, a search on “personal responsibility” produces over a million more. My hopes begin to soar.

I pick up the broom and head for the bathroom. Time for the cleanup. I think we’ve weathered the storm.