Monday, August 30, 2010

The beef thief

So I think I'm living in a Nancy Drew novel. Or maybe the Boxcar Children. It's a new mystery every day around here.

So the other day I was going to work and I was rushing out the door when my mom arrived to watch the kids. I kissed the kids goodbye and as I left I yelled over my shoulder that I had left defrosted ground beef in the refrigerator for dinner.

A couple hours later, I got a text.

Mom: Um, where's the meat you said you defrosted?

Me: What do you mean? On the shelf in the ziploc.

Mom: No...there's a ziploc, no meat. 

Me: That...can't be good. 

Immediately, my thoughts went to the time a few years ago when we found a pound of rotten hamburger in the kids toy box.

That was a really good day, let me tell you.

When I got home, I tried my calm voice.

"Guys, no one is going to get into trouble. But I need to know what you did with the ground beef."

They hemmed and hawed for a while, but in the end I couldn't crack them. Jace made up a couple of nonsensical stories that couldn't possibly be true, and I started to stress out about where in my house the pound of meat was residing.

I didn't stress enough to actually look for it, by the way. There were too many possibilities, and I don't like to expend unnecessary energy if I can help it.

The next day, I pulled out another pound of beef to replace the one that had mysteriously disappeared, and then I once again left for work. When I got home, my mom was practically bouncing up and down in excitement.

"I found the Beef Thief!"

"You did? You found the beef? Where was it?" I squealed.

"No, no, I found the thief! I just walked into the kitchen and caught Seth red handed! He had opened refrigerator, unzipped the bag and was hand feeding it to the dog. And possibly eating some himself, I can't be sure."

"Wow...well, that is not the worst case scenario, actually."

So it turns out that Seth was the thief all along. I never even suspected him, although I should have. I've told you before, that kid is Trouble. Feeding the dog some ground beef is definitely better than it rotting away in some kid's sock drawer, though, I have to say. When I told Ava about it, she shook her head very  seriously and said "I don't know how many times I've told you to get a lock for that Fridge, Mom. When are you going to listen to me?"

When did she become the parent again?
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