Growing up, my house has always been the hangout house. My house is well known, and I always thought that was great —until it wasn’t.

The toilet papering started around eighth grade and has not stopped. At first, it was funny seeing the white paper litter my lawn, but after a while, the humor faded. Over the past four years, my house has been toilet papered maybe 15 times. My neighbors used to laugh while watching me clean the remnants, but now they look at me with pity.

My house is the TP house for three reasons. First, I live close to a lot of the toilet paperers. Second, it is very easy to hide in the many bushes and trees. Third, I have a bunch of bushes and a huge tree in my front lawn making it easy and, dare I say, enjoyable to toilet paper.

The toilet papering started with just littering my bushes and trees, but the toilet paperers have upped their game. I have not only been toilet papered, but I have also been flour’d, syrup’d, and hot dog’d. I admire the creativity that these toilet paperers have and their drive to keep up the good work. My favorite was the time they stuck hot dogs and a Target hiring sign into my lawn.

Some of my favorite memories were catching them in the act. Next time, they should think about whether toilet papering at 9 p.m. is a smart idea. Once we were able to spray the toilet paperers with our favorite hose. Another thing I enjoy is hinting to them that I know their identity without directly saying it. I know who they are, but I find it amusing to make them squirm.

If any of my toilet paperers are reading this, I would like to make it known that the FBI is now on the case.

And for the record, toilet papering is not a good idea and can come with consequences.