The Mysterious Doggy Bag Heist
I rarely eat out. So, when I do, I splurge. I had a scrumptious dinner. I ate so much of the appetizers and the salad that I was too full to finish my yummy pasta dish. It had all kinds of mushrooms and peppers and capers. So, I got a Doggy Bag. I promptly put it in my refrigerator when I got home.
By lunch the next day, I was salivating in anticipation of my pasta from the night before. I looked in the refrigerator. I moved the Miracle Whip and the milk and eggs. No Doggy Bag. My food was gone. I questioned my husband, “Have you seen my Doggy Bag?” “No, check with your daughters, they probably ate it.” I went up to my daughters with my hands on my hips and my neck slithering like a snake, “Did you two eat my food?” “No, mom, we swear, we didn’t touch it!” they both claimed.
I didn’t get it. Where could my food be? I checked the trash for evidence of the heist. NOTHING. By this time, my stomach was growling so loudly my parrot began to squawk in reply. Maybe it’s in the freezer. Still, no food! Who did it, who stole my Doggy Bag? I stood there, dejected and starving. Finally, I decided to give in and make a peanut butter sandwich. While I was eating my sandwich, looking out the window into my backyard, I saw my Chocolate Labrador, Nelson, busy licking Doggy Bag container clean. My dog had stolen my Doggy Bag! Well, at least somebody had a good lunch.