Early this morning, someone snuck into the kitchen and absconded with an entire, whole cantaloupe. The thief made a clean getaway. There were no fingerprints, no DNA samples, no tire tracks from a getaway car.
Then I heard it. Or, rather, I heard him. Snickering from somewhere in the house. “Aha!” I thought. The thief must still be on the premises!
I crept around the house, checking behind the couch for the thief. Nope. I checked in the pantry. Nope. I checked in the hall closet. Nope. I could hear him, now giggling with glee to have hidden himself away so well.
Little Jackson, the Cantaloupe Thief! Hiding in the kitchen cabinet!
I laughed then found the camera. All was well, and the cantaloupe was safe again. Until the Thief decided to use it as a ball and bounce it on the kitchen floor. *Groan!*