My First Heist

The captivating aroma of freshly baked brownies drew me and Rusty directly to the kitchen. There, resting on the countertop, were three cooling racks filled with chocolate delights. Mother was busy readying the house for company, so my window of opportunity was limited. She had baked the brownies for her guests, but I didn’t think she would miss one or two.

Five-year-old me wasn’t tall enough to reach my target. Rusty sat quietly, wagging his tail. As soon as I spied the kitchen table, my plan came together. Stealthily, I dragged one of the kitchen chairs over to the counter. With some effort, I pulled myself up and gazed at my prize.

There were so many brownies, I wasn’t sure where to start. Clumsily, I reached for the closest one and promptly knocked it to the floor. Rusty handled damage control. My next attempt was more successful. I placed my prize on the chair and was about to climb down when I spotted a problem. The missing brownies left a gaping hole. It only took seconds to rearrange the squares and fill in the gap.

Chair returned; I walked outside with my prize. Many more heists have followed.