Who Stole the Meatloaf?

An unfortunate crime appeared to happen last week somewhere between the refridgerator at home and the refridgerator at work. The crime: Meatloaf theft. This might not seem like a big deal to the average reader, but rest assured, it was.

Last Friday started out like any other day for me. I awoke early to face my long commute into the office and as part of my normal morning routine, I packed up my lunch of leftovers from a previous dinner. The leftover that would ultimately end up spinning my world out of control was, you guessed it, meatloaf.

The meatloaf was accompanied by a nice side dish of pasta and some snickerdoodles (which I planned to share with one of my co-workers).

As I made my long journey to the office, I thought very little of the contents of the lunch container that would reshape my day, and I arrived at work and place the meatloaf in the refrigerator.

The hours passed and my stomach began to growl as lunch time drew near. So I got up, walked to the refrigerator and removed the lid off of my lunch container to warm up my tasty meatloaf. Imagine my shock and disbelief when my meatloaf was gone...I mean, the container was still there, pasta included, but no meatloaf. Where could it have gone? I know that certain leftovers are left in the refrigerator long enough that they can get up and walk away, but such was not the case with this meatloaf...there had been a theft!

As I munched on my heated not very filling honeycomb pasta, I was seething. I ran through the list of possible theft candidates over and over in my head. Who could it be? Was it it my cunning father? He's been known to eat a meatloaf sandwich or two in his day, he could've easily pulled the meatloaf out of the container the day before. Or, was it my mother? Sweet, caring, giving...unless food is involved! Could it have possibly been my dear sweet wife Melanie? Or worse, Audrey???

With every unfulfilling bite, I thought and thought...and the first thought that came to my mind was that this honeycomb pasta really didn't hold a torch to the honeycomb cereal I came to enjoy from my youth. This thought made everything worse...every bite made me increasingly angry...and It also made me really want some honeycombs!

FInally, unable to take it anymore, I called Melanie and explained to her what happened. She assured me that neither she or Audrey was the culprit. That narrowed the list to two...and quickly to one for me.

Dad.

It was so simple, he removed the meatloaf the day before to enjoy a meatloaf sandwich. As the hours passed I thought about how I would address this issue when I got home and how my father would soon feel the justice of my rebuke as he realized that his son virtually starved because of his decision. How could he live with himself after doing that to his son? He would soon have to face the music.

Then, two things happened. First, in my starved state, I quickly ate all 6 snickerdoodles that I had brought into the office to share. Second, the phone rang. It was Melanie. She was laughing. I had taken the wrong lunch container to work. The container I took was a pasta only container, and the one I was supposed to take, the one she told me to take, was sitting in the exact same location she told me it would be in. Case closed. Mystery solved.

I stole the meatloaf...from myself.