Let me set the stage.
Ali and I have taken the kids over to my sister’s house for a fun Saturday afternoon. The girls and the babe are going shopping, while the men and Frank stay and watch football. And by that I mean, Jeff and I disappear into the man cave while Frank runs a muck on the house. I’ll admit, I often adhere to the parenting philosophy of “It’s easier to just clean it up later than it is to stop him from doing it”. But on this particular day I was even more permissible than usual because I had just played football for two hours (and that was not a check my out-of-shape body was equipped to cash).
So as Jeff and I become immersed in the day’s games, Frank fluidly moves from room to room. On one of his visits to the man cave, he has a Ziplock bag of cereal (or "tu-doh" if we are speaking in Franky language). Certainly not an unusual occurrence, as mama regularly packs him such a snack. It appears he has emptied the contents of this one, so he hands me the bag of crumb remnants.
Flash forward as we revisit this experience with some hindsight.
The pantry is destroyed. Boxes of cereal are toppled. Snacks overturned. And yes, a box of Ziplock bags lie nearby. As these clues unite, the truth is revealed. My two-year old son had went into the pantry, found the Ziplock bags, filled one with cereal, and then sauntered on downstairs with the men, casually snacking on his inconspicuous treat.
THE PERFECT CRIME!!!