The Curious Case of the Snack Thief

I put Oreo's on the grocery list, I bought them, I put them in the car, brought them home, unloaded the box, put said box in the pantry and by the next day, the cookies were gone. The box was left empty on the ground, taunting me, obviously eaten by a pygmy tribe of locusts without souls -otherwise known as my children. However, to hear them tell it, they are innocent -- pure as the driven snow.

It's a pity we live in Texas, where it doesn't snow…
Now, before you jump all over my gluttonous gaggle of girls in a flurry of parental judgment, think about the last time something went missing from your pantry. I would be willing to bet a dollar to a doughnut (because I am out of doughnuts now also) if you have more than one kid that you, too, have absolutely no idea who imbibed the last Oreo/Thin Mint/Chocolate Muffin or other devilishly delicious indulgence you were saving for later. Chances are, if you have more than one child, you are like me; with a stoic demeanor and interrogation skills of a battle hardened Marine. We have to stick together, you know. It is the only way to uncover said snack thieves.

Let the interrogating begin.
I had to assume the worst. I had to factor in the most likely possibilities. The most recent assault on my cookie-kingdom could have been a sniper attack, with a lone terrorist plaguing my box of deliciousness, scarfing them all down by herself. Equally, the incursion could have been a conspiracy, with my twin 17-year-olds the masterminds (it wouldn't be the first time). Or, even more likely, the three of them could have gobbled every crumb, hid the evidence and left the box on the floor to make it appear as though the dog had her way with the little rounds of yum. -In fact, I am 99.7 percent certain my children have gotten away with this caper in the past (they are that clever).

When questioning my trio about the most recent pantry blitz, the fingers of blame point in three different directions (four, if you include the fingers pointing at the dog). Then, of course, my minuscule masters of redirection turned the tide, questioning me as to my whereabouts when the cookies went missing. I told you they were clever. Evil geniuses, in fact.

So, who stole the cookie from the cookie car?
In 17 years, 8 days, 14 hours and 39 minutes, I have not been able to successfully deduce who the culprit of my snacking raids is 100 percent of the time. I have won battles, but not wars. Therefore, I can think of only four possibilities. Either the children are lying, my house is haunted, a tiny Lilliputian village relies on my pantry as a random act of philanthropy or I have a plague of very smart mice. Whoever they culprit, they need to exit my pantry, with their palms (or paws, as the case may be) to the sky, because I could really use a cookie right about now. This detective stuff is hard work.

Do you have a snack thief in your house?

More from this Contributor:
A Very Merry Un-birthday
Free Lecture with Purchase
Kids and Porn: Normal or Not?