Guilty Parties

By Belinda

Oh my, I am still looking for that foggy story from the past. I haven't found it yet, and if I don't tomorrow, I will rewrite it from my journal, but I found this funny story from last year to share. It was called "Guilty Parties," and you will soon find out why. :)

I was loading the dishwasher when Brenda wandered into the kitchen with a perplexed expression on her face and furrowed brow. She had just lost something precious, her last piece of salmon. In fact she had posted her status to the world on Facebook  as this:

"Ok it's official ... I have lost my mind and my salmon! Made my lunch for tomorrow and could have sworn I put the leftovers in the fridge but the allusive salmon is still MIA! If I ever find it I'll let I you know where I put it!"

And now she was coming to commiserate with me. I obliged. After all, I am used to the fact that I can put something down and it vanishes from view in that very split second! How does that happen?? I am used to hunting the kitchen and my office in dismay for items that leave my hand and vanish into thin air. But it was funny to see my daughter standing in my kitchen in her pajamas telling me that she had actually looked inside her washing machine, dryer, oven and microwave for her salmon.

I went downstairs to help look. 

We had decided on the weekend to split some of the grocery items we buy in bulk, to save money, and space in our fridges. One thing we bought was a salmon steak, which I had baked and then put into two large take-out chicken containers from Swiss Chalet--one for her and one for me. These containers aren't small, so how hard could it be to find one in her apartment downstairs? I was sure I would spot it in no time.

We recruited Tippy to help, and laughingly proposed a prize for the one to find the salmon. Tori was in the shower and when she emerged, Brenda asked her if she had seen the salmon. She said, "No, but feel free to interrogate the shampoo!" She turned thirteen in March, which should explain everything.

The three of us looked in all the cupboards, the garbages, the appliances. Nothing.

My mind turned to the one member of the downstairs household not present: Kevin. He was upstairs working in his office.

"Brenda, I bet Kevin has the salmon." I said, "He must be playing a joke on you!" It seemed like the only possible explanation left.

Molson was circling the group, nuzzling my hands, but if he had anything to do with this,  where was the evidence? The container would have to be left behind and it was nowhere to be seen.

Just when Brenda was about to buy into my Kevin theory, there was a crack in the case. Tori caved under the pressure of knowing that poor Kevin was about to be interrogated and admitted her part in the crime.

It seems that she took the Swiss Chalet container from the fridge into the t.v. room thinking it indeed contained chicken; a logical assumption. When she found it was salmon, not chicken, she left it on the table. Enter Molson; "Only Too Glad to Help" Molson. 

"Tori," I said, "I can't believe it. You actually watched us searching high and low, and you knew all along where the salmon was?" 

Tori had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable and guilty. She hadn't known what to do. She hadn't banked on her mother going into such a tizzy over the salmon, or the "the big guns" being called in; which was what I hear she called me after I went back upstairs! :)

She went and retrieved the missing container from her room and held it out to us.

"What were you going to do with it?" I said, looking at the empty container with vestiges of salmon left around the edges.

"I was going to wait until tomorrow and then dispose of it!" sounding as though she was referring to a body inconveniently lying around.

I thought that she seemed far too casually at ease with surreptitious disposal and wondered what else might be going the way of the salmon.

As for Molson, her partner in crime; we decided he might as well finish off the vestiges that were left. 

And he was happy to oblige!