Still Unsolved: The Case of the Early-Riser

I met Dad on Saturday for breakfast at the Club (current suspect in the Wall Street Journal investigation). I had oatmeal with brown sugar and strawberries, a mimosa and lots of coffee. Breakfast there is really good. Yum . . . .

Anyway, I was very much expecting to see at least a dozen Wall Street Journals scattered about the place. Then, I would have solved the case of the Paper Pig. Yes, the glory would be mine!

I walked in. Dad was reading a paper. Dad was reading a paper! It would be a Journal, and I would take a picture of it for documentation and then bask in the glow of mystery solving. I walked over to the table. I held my breath so I could savor the moment. Dad put the paper down in an empty chair. I peered over. It was . . . a crumpled page from the Tennessean.

Ah! There was not a Wall Street Journal to be seen in that place! I was later chastized for my investigation skills because I didn't examine the ladies' locker room. I'm still not convinced I would have discovered anything there.

So back to square 1. Mom called the Loveless Motel as soon as I got home. They said they didn't carry it. Who is the Paper Pig? Soon, my friends, we will know.