Childhood Memories: Cheese Thief Edition

This childhood memory will probably be highly disputed due to its controversial nature...

Okay, to preface the memory, I need to point out that we were very well fed as children and never starved.  Aside from breakfast, lunch and dinner, if we wanted a snack or dessert, we had to ask permission to eat something and it wasn't guaranteed approval.  I can only imagine what kind of costs went into feeding a family of 6!  So, it is understandable that occasionally the more "expensive" items would be missed if they disappeared.

Now onto the memory.  From the best of my recollection (because I think I had to have been like 4 or 5 or something) the incident started because someone had opened a block of cheese and eaten it.  I don't remember if the whole block of cheese was eaten and the evidence was found in the trash can or if someone had opened the block of cheese and helped themselves.  Well, the fact that someone had eaten cheese without permission was a big no-no.  (If you are accustomed to buying blocks of cheese, you know they aren't cheap.)  So, an interrogation process was lead in order to find the culprit.  Apparently my three siblings all denied the allegations, as did I.  I was 100% sure I was innocent as I knew that I had not partaken in the disappearance of the cheese.

Well, here's where the travesty lies.   Apparently since everyone denied it, it was assumed that I was the guilty party.  I was the youngest, so maybe it was thought that the older children would have no reason to lie about something so trivial.  Despite my protests, I was sent to my room and told I would remain there until I confessed.  Imagine how much this crushed my faith in humanity.  I can understand how inmates feel that are incarcerated, but innocent.  Instead of mulling over a confession, I was sitting there wondering why I was being punished- because mind you, none of my three siblings were being punished because my parents assumed it was me.

Fast forward until I was allowed out of my room.  This is where the rest of the memory gets mildly fuzzy.  I BELIEVE that someone eventually confessed and that's why I was allowed out.  But, this doesn't seem too likely because I doubt any of them felt too guilty that I was getting punished.  So, maybe they let me out because they figured I'd been punished enough had I actually been the perpetrator.  Either way, that's all I remember happening from the event.  I learned that the world is not fair and that I can't expect people to apologize because no one did.  I'm sure to this day (if my parents thought this was a real memory) that they think I was the one who ate the cheese.