"I don't think—"
"Don't tell me we're out of propane!"
"I'm dying for it. Please?"
"It's not really—"
"Fine! I'll just light the grill myself."
"Um, Chuck? Where is the grill? Chuck?"
A few weeks ago in Mulletville Lite, I told you how I had begun to question the integrity of our babysitter, Kim. I believed she was ste...