Humor
The Case of the Missing Meatloaf
Why would someone come into my house to steal it?
When confronted with the news that a stranger had been in my house, took and item of food, then left, I was more than surprised. Shocked because of what he stole, and concerned because my kids were home at the time and did not see him.
As a single mom raising two boys and attending college, I found it necessary to take a few evening courses based on available openings. Time was of the essence. Setting aside part of the day to read and study was difficult at best, so to keep organized and free up time for school work, I would prepare enough food for at least two meals cutting down on kitchen chores.
On my school nights, my 16-year-old, Derek, would stay with the younger one, Andrew, who was four. Dinner would be on the table for them before I left.
Derek’s only responsibility was to put dirty dishes in the sink, cover the leftovers to store in the fridge so as not to waste food as we were on a tight budget, put Andrew to bed, then watch T.V. and do his homework if he had any.
Derek, though, had a bad habit that threw off my whole schedule. No matter how much food I would leave for them, he would continue eating the leftovers until they were gone.
He was particularly fond of pasta dishes and loved cold meatloaf. It was impossible to keep him from eating the food I had planned for another night.
One evening, before I left for school, I made two meatloaves; one for that night and one for another night during the week. Knowing if he saw the second one in the fridge, he would eat it.
It seemed certain foods called to him, making it impossible to control himself, so to avoid temptation, I put the second meatloaf in a safe place.
Out of sight — out of mind, or so I thought. It seemed like a rational idea at the time.
Coming home to alarming news
It was a long night as I was taking graduate courses, and all I wanted to do was throw myself into bed and sleep. I was exhausted.
Instead, upon arriving home I was confronted with alarming news. I found a note from Derek on the table stating that someone had entered the house and taken something. The police had been called and I was instructed to contact the police station immediately.
As both kids were sleeping and safe, I decided not to disturb them to find out details. I would call the station first.
After telling the dispatcher who I was and which officer I needed to speak with, I waited for him to pick up the phone. While waiting, I could hear laughter in the background before he answered.
“Mrs. L,” he said, “Your son called earlier this evening to report a burglar in your house. We responded to his call but found nothing out of order, nothing seemed disturbed, and there was no evidence of a break-in.”
“What? Someone was here in my house while I was at school?” I asked nervously.
He explained that one of the officers took my two kids outside on the porch to wait, then after a thorough search and finding no one in the house and nothing out of the ordinary, invited them back inside.
The officer asked my son why he thought a stranger had gotten inside, to which he replied, “I know someone came in because something is missing, but I didn’t see them come in or leave.”
The officer on the phone stopped for a few seconds, and I could hear more laughter in the background behind him.
“What was stolen?” I blurted becoming anxious and wondering why he was not treating this more seriously. After all, someone was in my house while the kids were home alone!
The missing item
The policeman responded with, “A meatloaf! Your son said there was a meatloaf missing!”
“A meatloaf?!”
“Yes, a meatloaf. We searched around and could not find the missing meatloaf, either, but no evidence that someone had taken it. We told him we needed to speak with you.”
I had to stop and think about the day’s events and my brilliant idea to keep him from eating another night’s dinner. My idea may not have been so bright as I suddenly remembered what I had done.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said apologetically. “It was me. Before I left for my classes, I thought it best to hide the second meatloaf from my son because he eats everything in sight, so I put it in the hamper.”
“You hid a meatloaf in the hamper? Why the hamper,” he asked. “Is it still there?”
“I hid it in the hamper because I knew he would never look there, and yes, it’s still there right where I left it!”
Thanks so much for reading. If you enjoyed my story, here is another you may like. To be added to my mailing list, click here. Feel free to reply to any of my stories. Happy reading!