Why I am not a detective

When the boys were away my dh and I took to going for new and undiscovered evening walks around about where we live - country lanes, paths through fields etc. It was on one of these nightly delicious stroll-y types of walks with the babe asleep in the sling that we stopped on the over-grown barely-there foot track at the side of a wheat filed to find: a rubber mallet.

Black rubber and shiny new silver handle.

With complete certainty and with the sort of authority of voice that would make a police chief say, yeah boys call off the dogs, search over, she's got it, I say;

Yep. It must be from a mallet throwing competition.
A what?
You know, a village fete type of thing, like a welly throwing competition only with... rubber mallets! (*shrug* Case so obviously dismissed!)
From where?
Huh?
Where would this competition have been held? (Gestures around huge wheat field and next door field of sheep).
Oh! Over there some where... (arm wave in vague 360 degree direction).

I stop walking (deep in thought, of course).

Actually I've changed my mind. It wasn't a mallet throwing competition you're absolutely right, it must have been..... a MURDER!!!! I suspect the murder took place in the wheat field with the rubber mallet! (chortle chortle, silly laughs from me that shake me all over the place)

Walk on a bit.

Well? You're quiet what on earth do you think a strange mallet is doing here in the middle of no-where?

I ask because I am flumuxed. Confounded. I have exhausted all possibility and feel as through I have just awoken, entered the bathroom to find a donkey braying and chomping on my toothbrush and cannot fathom for one second what it is doing there or WHY??? Or who put it there.... I give up.

Walkers.

'Scuse me?

Walkers. Campers, walking this bridleway, it dropped from their backpacks. It's for knocking in tent pegs probably.

Ohhh. Well. Yeah! God!!! How did I not think of that? That is exactly it! God you're a genius! (Genuine enthusiasm on my part)

Hmmmmm.

Then lots and lots of laughter that wakes the baby.

And that is an example of why I am not a chief detective.

Or even an assistant detective. Some where, some how, that teeny spot in my brain that solves mysteries was addled.

But it's ok, it manages without my meaning to, to give us lots of laughs, which I think is better than being right. Mmmmmm Hmmmmm certainly better. Tra la la.

(That's my explanation anyway, and I'm sticking to it :) )