I Love a Mystery When It's a Mystery (standard:humor, 900 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Aug 02 2020	Views/Reads: 1252/951	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I believe the biggest mystery in life is with the person who thinks they know everything.

Because of the situation we are in these days, the Gracious Mistress of
the Parsonage and I have spent some significant time watching 
mysteries. We enjoy a mystery movie. 

I have always loved mysteries. I have read all of the Sherlock Holmes
stories by Arthur Conan Doyle. I have read the Father Brown stories by 
G. K. Chesterton. And, don't forget Agatha Christie with Hercule Poirot 
and Miss Marple. What wonderful mysteries created by these authors, and 
I have enjoyed reading the books as well as watching the movies based 
on these books. 

I especially like those stories where the mystery is a challenge to
figure out until the very end. That keeps me on edge as I follow the 
story. Usually, I figure out wrong. I would never make a great 
detective; that is for sure. The person I think is guilty is often the 
most innocent person at the end of the story. 

However, I keep trying, and I enjoy figuring out who the guilty person
is. 

That is not the case with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. 

Yes, she enjoys these mysteries as much as I do, and we enjoy watching
them together. Only there is one difference between us. 

When people say everybody is equal, they obviously have not met the
Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. If there is ever a day, I thought I 
was equal to her, that was the worst day of my life. 

No matter what the problem, she can solve it. She solves problems while
I, on the other hand, have a talent for creating problems. 

A few nights ago, I got up in the middle of the night to go to the
bathroom, as I normally do 150 times a night. As I left the bathroom, I 
slipped and grabbed hold of the towel rack on the wall. I do not have 
to tell you what happened. 

There was this loud noise, I crashed to the floor, and then the voice
from the bedroom said, “What have you broken now?” 

It certainly was not a mystery because she knew exactly what had
happened before it happened and how she does that; I am not sure. 

She went to the bathroom, saw the mess I had made, simply shook her
head, and went back to bed. The next day, of course, she fixed it—no 
mystery about that. 

If my wife cannot fix it, our house's motto is, it cannot be broken. 

Getting back to those movie mysteries. 

For example, the other night, we watched this fascinating mystery, "The
Midsomer Murders,” a British production. 

The program began with a murder. The murderer is not revealed at the
beginning, and the rest of the program is trying to solve that mystery 
of who murdered that person. 

When we start watching these kinds of mysteries, I try to get ahead of
the story and guess who the murderer is. I want to get it before my 
wife figures it out. 

As soon as I think I have figured it out, I present it to my wife. "That
man right there is the one who committed the crime." 

No sooner do I say this when across the room comes a mysterious little
chuckle. I know where it's coming from, and so I look at her and say, 
"Do you think I'm right?" Of course, I'm waiting for an affirmative 
answer. 

"No," she says, chuckling, "it's that lady there in the blue dress." 

There was just no way possible that that person could have been the one
to commit the crime. None of the evidence in the story pointed to her. 



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