The Case of the Missing Pecan Pie. #Closed
Last night, I made two pecan pies.
See.
When I got up this morning at 4 a.m. to head into Atlanta, I moved those two beauties to our dining room table.
And really didn’t think much else about it till I got home from race (which was awesome BTW) and saw only one pie on the table.
In the place of the other pie, I saw this . . .
Odd.
But no one was home and I had to get my collard greens cooking — so I forgot about the missing pie.
Until later, when I started thinking what in the heck happened to that pie?
At this point, hubs was home.
But he was
Asleep.
So I put on my super-slueth Nancy Drew cap. Found my crime stopper pad and pencil and started thinking.
Who could have done this?
Suspect Number One.
Problem Number One.
Absence of a body. Er . . . I mean absence of a pie tin.
Maybe hubs took the pie over to his parents early?
Like monkeys would fly out of my butt before that would happen.
Then my little Nancy Drew super-sluething senses grew two-times this day.
Supposing the prime suspect got the pie.
Where would the tin end up?
Look under the table my heightened super-sleuthing senses told me.
There it was.
Granted, it’s circumstantial at best. No traces of the pecan nut have been swabbed from the suspect’s mouth, but . . .
I think we have our dog.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving with those you love. Down one pie or not, it’s my favorite holiday.
