Agatha Christie’s “Ten Little Daffodils.”
Ah, early Spring in North Carolina. The bulbs have peeked their heads up, and we’re all enjoying the first color of the season. Pictured to the left are daffodils from my mother’s front yard. From the photo, it would appear that about half the flowers are blooming.
Actually, until a few days ago, they were all blooming. And here I have to quote my mother. “Someone stole up on the daffodils in the front yard, armed with scissors, and cut half of them off for their own nefarious purposes.”
Did you catch that? They were cut, which means that someone had to notice them, admire them, go home, get a tool, come back at night, and snip the ones they wanted. I’ve watched enough Law and Order to know premeditation when I see it.
You’ll note that only half are gone. My mother and I have two theories as to why that might be. My first thought was that the thief thought they were being nice by only stealing half. My mother’s thought was that they only took half so that it wouldn’t be so obvious that any had been cut, and could more easily cover their tracks. The perfect crime!
Unfortunately, “perfect crime” is likely right. I can’t imagine how you would go about identifying the culprit. Perhaps she could look out her window this evening to see if there’s anyone in a black catsuit and ski mask out for a pleasant stroll. If they happen to be carrying gardening shears, that could also be a clue.
If she has any neighbors who have long, thin mustaches that they like to twirl while cackling evilly, that might also be a good place to start.
We obviously moved from outrage to amusement pretty quickly, but I still think I should find some police tape and cordon off the crime scene. We can’t let these blossom rustlers get away with this!