*cue music that is reminiscent of the soundtrack from a program about the Bermuda Triangle*
Cookies disappeared here. More specifically, I left at Grandma's house a plastic container with at least 20 lemon lover's cookies. Lemon lover's cookies doncha know, are the most labor-intensive of the lot.
What immoral scallywag broke into the place and stole only the lemon lover's cookies? I have no idea. I know that three adults reside here permanently and NONE of them claim the least bit of information about the incident. The tasty treats have simply vanished....*music crescendos and decrescendos*...without a trace. Nary a crumb can be located.
Was it Colonel Mustard in the bathroom with low blood sugar? Was it sister-in-law in the dining room with late night munchies? Was it Mrs. Peacock in the living room with a sweet tooth? Was it grandma, in the kitchen with excessive cookie-tray making holiday "spread good cheer"? Was it Miss Scarlet, in the wash room with nine hungry orphans? Was it brother-mine in the bedroom, nurturing his inner child?
A new batch is in progress and this one...*music*...will be placed under lock and key in an unidentified location.
If the mystery repeats itself and there are no lemon lover's cookies to be found on Christmas morning, this skeptic will be FORCED to conclude...*music*...that we have been hit by the ghost of Christmas cookies.
End dispatch.
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