The Case of the Missing Half Banana

This past week, I flew off to St. Louis to visit my parents and Grandmother. I left behind a sad Biceps and two kittens, but that’s another story for another day.

My parents moved in with my widowed 94 year old Grandmother years ago, allowing our visits to encompass a multi-generational fun fest.

She is quite the character-often praying for the squirrels “swollen bellies” and asking God to provide enough food for them. Little does she know, my dad scares the squirrels off the bird feeder with his BB gun-“motivating them to go into another yard”.

It’s quite the sitcom around that house.

Grandma is notorious for rising in the middle of the night and having a little snack. But she often won’t admit to it, or conveniently forgets she’s done so, when the next morning Mom tests her sugar levels and they are too high or too low.

I woke up one morning to Grandma and Mom already bustling around the kitchen and to this question posed by my Grandmother, “Did you eat half a banana last night?”.

Of course my answer was “No”. I like green bananas-not the bananas Grandma keeps that are on the verge of meltdown.

“Well, someone did,” Grandma responded. I looked at Mom who rolled her eyes.

So, I posed the question back to Grandma. “Did you eat half a banana, Grandma?”.

“No, or at least I don’t think I did,” she said and dug into her watered down cereal.

Hm….

“Well, if I didn’t and mom didn’t and dad didn’t…,” I said, pausing for her to come to her own conclusion.

“It must have been the cat!,” she said, victoriously. And took a bite from her toast, confident she had solved the case.