Who Dunit: The Case of the Murdered Nutella

One hot, muggy afternoon at the end of summer, four children accompanied their mother to the store for groceries. The cupboards and the refrigerator were bare as the family had just returned from vast travels, that took them thousands of miles away from home. These four children were at the apex of excitement over the thought of accessible food in their home and their mother decided after so long away to offer some leniency in what foods the cupboards would hold. As they perused the aisles of the store, the children took every opportunity to add to the pile of groceries in the cart... tomato soup, mushroom soup, strawberries and whipped cream, etc. Then the children heard the voice of angels and saw the unmistaken light of glory that fell upon the scrumptious chocolate hazelnut spread of goodness: Nutella. They were desperate for the largest container, but the mother declined in favor of a much smaller size, which she would be quite thankful for later.

The Nutella was brought home with the immediate request to enjoy the rich delicacy. The mother obliged, generously slathering it on bread with strawberry jelly. Instanty pleased, the children then begged for another round; to which the mother refused as it was unnecessary to eat the Nutella in its entirety on the first opening. This concept was apparently lost on the children and the mother could tell this was only the beginning of conflict over when and how much of the Nutella would be eaten. The mother, realizing the dangers of gluttony, and that three salivating girls would eventually find a way to inhale the Nutella, was wise and quickly turned the lid of the Nutella as tight as she could. Confident that no child could get into the coveted container of delectableness, the mother left the Nutella on the table in the kitchen, for she knew the next day would begin with the children wanting it for breakfast.

The next morning, after a fulfilling night of slumber (which until recently had been a rarity), the mother headed to the kitchen for coffee and to prepare breakfast for her still sleeping babes. Upon entering the kitchen, the mother was stopped at the sight of a heinous crime that had most certainly happened during the night while she slept. The Nutella had been murdered, in the most tortuous fashion. Being the kind of mother that laughs first, takes photographs second, questions third and then blogs fourth, she was fascinated by the sight and did all four --in that order. Putting on her best imaginary deerslayer hat, these are the deductions she made.

Specimen 1: Butterknife with faint streaks of Nutella; unsure if weapon or accessory to murder

 

 

Specimen 2: Bread knife, well over ten inches long, two sharp points, serated, a good deal more Nutella spread on end and along blade; prime suspect as weapon of destruction

 

 

 

Specimen 3: Small spoon, globs of Nutella present, teeth marks in globs, small fingerprints on handle, found inside the victim (container of Nutella); accessory to murder, utterly vile

 

 

Specimen 4: The victim of the crime, container of Nutella, lid still tightly screwed onto container, obvious signs of struggle and gruesome traces of spread around lid and container.

 

Specimen 5: The lid, upon close examination suffered from multiple puncture wounds to top, resulting in gashed edges and more globs of Nutella and the presence of the small spoon before extraction; the spoon was used to remove the contents of Nutella from the inside of the container.

 

 

Same lid, punctures from the underside

 



 

 

 

Autopsy Results: 11 of the 13 ounces originally in container are decimated.

 

 

 

The mother, after taking the evidence and weighing the abilities of her children, decided that it could either be her first child or the second. She woke her eldest child and in film noir mode asked her what she knew about the Nutella downstairs in the kitchen. The child blinked, rubbed her eyes and said "You woke me up to talk about Nutella? I want to go back to sleep." The child rolled back over and pulled the blanket over her head. The mother left the room contemplating the innocence or guilt of her oldest child. Entering the next room, she pulled the blanket down off the face of her peacefully sleeping second child, so sweet and the picture of innocence. The mother, of course, took into account the presence of Nutella at the corner of her child's small lips. Aha. The mother flipped on the light to better see the offender. The child squirmed under its radiance and begged for it to be turned off. The mother refused and questioned the child. "What do you know about the Nutella downstairs?" asked the mother. The child looked at the wall behind the mother's head "What Nutella? I've been asleep aaaallll night long." The mother skewered the child with her eyes. "The Nutella that was savagely cut into and eaten last night while the house was sleeping." "Oh, that Nutella..."

 

 

The mother was quite glad the child did not suffer injury in her murderous act against the Nutella (check out the second specimen if you need reminding), and the mother is still a bit flabbergasted that her tiny child managed the crime and ate that much Nutella.






 

Motivational Speaker

I'm trying a new thing for this blog. A vlog by Evelynn. She is our motivational speaker (not in a Chris Farley kind of way... at least I don't think so). She has such a positive outlook on life and she's constantly telling me about her latest things learned. Here is the first video to start it off. It's short (which will change, I assure you) but here is Evelynn explaining what she learned today. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBPsuqAe3AA

Sneaky Shoes

The bedroom lights are low and two little girls are in there beds. McKenna has been snoozing for a while and from my vantage point, Caelan is in sleepy stillness. I marvel at how sweet they look, bundled up in their blankets, surrounded by all their favorite toys. This is my favorite time of night. Another day has charged by and there is peace in the house. These two girls share a room, but very little else. They are polar opposites: Caelan, desparate to make the most of every minute of the day and to grow up far too soon and McKenna, my blonde hippie, flower child. They hug each other and are the best of friends. Then they tustle and can't stand each other. In their beds at night, they are at their calmest and sweetest.

I turn to walk away from the door, but a quick movement from Caelan's bed catches my eye. Her hands dart along the blanket and swiftly reach over the side of the bed and seize something from McKenna's bed nearby. I see a flash of pink and the item is crammed under her pillow where she curls back up into her sleeping position. I wait until her chest rises slowly with deep breaths and her eyelids crack open. That really weirds me out, seeing her sleep with eyes that are half open. I reach under her pillow and pull out a tattered pair of pink patent leather shoes. Sigh.

Every day guarantees at least one altercation over these shoes. They are Easter shoes from last year, well worn and too small for either of my twin-sized girls. They obsess over them. When one is wearing them, the other is dying to put them on. As soon as they come off one, they are put on by the other. They tried sleeping in them until I put the kibosh on that idea. So under the pillow they went. The first one to put them on before the other woke was the rightful wearer for the day- or until they are removed by the wearer. This scenario is a direct result of making the "if you fight over it, it's mine so work out your own problems" directive.

This morning, very early, Caelan came to my room and snuggled next to me in bed, the blankets tangled around her feet and ankles. She was in my bed with those shoes on. Sigh. A little while later, I started my day as she dozed. McKenna woke, too, and dissolved into messy tears, "Caelan took my shoeeeeessss. I had them on....." I sent her back to bed, not interested in starting the day off like that. Caelan was the wearer for the day until a little while ago when McKenna declared her ownership of the discarded shoes. Now to address her clothing choices, the droning monotony 'tights are not pants, tights are not pants, tights are not pants, tightsarenotpants..........."

The Little Man

Exceptionally tall and just as slim, our little man is ditching his chubbiness, more little boy than baby. His sisters are aflutter over this and enjoy him more each day. I'm afraid they are eager to teach him things I'm not ready for. Thankfully, I have an Evelynn that is a great Little Mama and does her best to keep him safe. He is thwarted in many of his endeavors, unlike... Caelan. He would love to go up the stairs but has yet to make it past four steps as Evelynn swoops in to set him back to the floor.

Paxton spends a good portion of his day looking out the living room window, taking in the cars, trucks and every other automobile that stops at our busy intersection. He watches them, talks to them in his baby babble and sometimes yells at them loudly. Motorized vehicles are enchanting. His Batmobile and Lego Tractor assuage his longing for wheels at the moment. And being ALL boy, he loves to bat rubbery balls around the house. He is a low-key little guy. His main concerns being vehicles, play time and food. The girls feed him all the time because of his reaction to the handouts, a huge smile and the occasional chuckle.

And as I move the mouse, keyboard and my phone out of reach, I'm reminded of how much he loves technology. Our mouse has a bright red light on its underside and if not kept out of reach, he will grab it and make off with it. He is iPhone savvy and has his own app that he maneuvers through. He FaceTimed with Keith a few days ago, but that didn't go so well. When he realized that Daddy really wasn't there and no matter how many times he flipped the phone around he couldn't produce the real Daddy, he was agitated and batted the phone away.

At fourteen months, I would love to say that he is walking or running around the house. However, being a Brannon, he has to do things his own way, in his own time. He started his mobility efforts with a body crawl, arms dragging his body behind and has gradually worked up to being the speediest baby I have ever seen on all fours. There is no surface that stops his progress: wood, carpet, bricks, cement, grass; he is undeterred. He can stand up and walk around furniture and walls, and from one piece of furniture to the next as long as that requires one step and the gratification of two seconds of reaching for the next object to keep him steady. He can stand unassisted in the middle of a room for a good bit of time, but when he realizes this, he sits down. He spends a good deal of time standing and in an attempt to get him to walk, Evelynn hunched down to his level and backed away from him. He sat back and then went onto his knees. In an upright position, he followed her taking steps on his knees. So now he "walks" around on his knees. Really? Just walk already! And then I laugh and shake my head. He's so close to walking.

Other than food, he's eager for nap time and bedtime. Sometimes I know it's because he's ready for peace. His sisters can be a bit too much. He is content to play in his crib for long periods of time. He loves music and has two music producing things that stay in his bed. You can hear the music playing just when you think he was dropped off to sleep. McKenna is a frequent interrupter of his sleep and they antagonize one another often. Those two will be something else as they grow.

Caelan is his enabler. The dog food and water bowls are where he gets into the most trouble. The repetitive "no" make no difference to him at this point. He will just try again tomorrow. It's a daily infraction. As soon as I say no and remove him from the spot, Caelan takes up his case "Mom, he's just a baby he doesn't know. Oh, Paxton, she didn't mean it. I'll hug you and love you." Pretty sure I did mean it, but thanks.

He is a smiling, hugging, crawling, babbling, curious little boy and our family can't get enough of him.

Evelynn the Artist

Evelynn, budding artist, has sketched and created works of art for several years now. At Thanksgiving, our family went to New York City for the Parade and spent the weekend there, enjoying the sights. One of our stops was at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Evelynn asked me to introduce her to some of the people who worked there, which I did, and she announced to them "Some day my paintings will be on your walls." They laughed a little bit, but she was more than serious. "I can send some in the mail for you now." We asked where Van Gogh was located (she is a fan of his; she recognizes several of his paintings and she saw that Doctor Who episode so she thinks she knows him personally).

 

For Christmas, she got her first water color set and easel. She has been unstoppable in her creations and we have gone through almost two watercolor paper pads.

 

Here is a sample of some of her best works. By the way, I'm quite impressed with her abilities. One of her favorite things about water colors is mixing her own shades. She knows more about what colors to combine to make another color than I would have in just teaching her the basic "yellow + blue= green". Also, when I have asked her what certain pieces are of she shrugs and says "That's just art." Two of the watercolors here she has determined to be "just art".