When the JonBenét Ramsey murder happened on December 26th, 1996, I was three years old. Thus, I wasn’t all that familiar with the mystery until CBS’s The Case Of: JonBenét Ramsey aired earlier this week. If you haven’t watched it yet, then get right with God and turn off all your lights and head on over to CBS dot com. If you’re not going to listen to me which, trust me, I’m used to, then spoiler alert: JonBenét Ramsey gets murdered. But we all know it couldn’t be that simple, or there wouldn’t be four hours of fresh JonBenét Ramsey content at your fingertips. This 20-year-old case was never solved, and the exact same questions remain: Who would kill a six-year-old in the dead of night with seemingly no motive? Why was the family so uncooperative during the investigation? And the biggest one for me, who on earth eats pineapple in milk?
Apparently the answer to that last question is Burke Ramsey, JonBenét’s brother, who was nine at the time. Much of the theory that Burke killed his sister before his parents covered it up hinges on a bowl of pineapple in milk sitting on the family’s kitchen table. If you’re to believe the investigators in the documentary, and now also me at literally any opportunity to talk about it, Burke was eating this midnight breakfast when his sister wandered downstairs, stole a bite, and was subsequently hit in the head with what might have been a flashlight. This is corroborated by the pineapple found in her stomach and the shape of the injury on her head. This is not corroborated by the fact that pineapple in milk sounds disgusting and definitely not worth stealing.
At six years old I was eating only Hormel Kids Kitchen microwavable chicken noodle soup and whatever came out of my nose, but still. If someone had, for instance, offered me a bite of cinnamon french toast sticks with the caveat that I might get bludgeoned, to this day I’d take my chances. But pineapple in milk? You might as well scoop out what’s left in your garbage disposal and put it in a bowl.
Obviously, the real tragedy here is the brutal and premature death of a six-year-old girl, followed by the grief of a family torn apart by this national scandal. But third place a hundo percent goes to that bowl of pineapple in milk, old and soggy, the last thing JonBenét ever ate. If we all have to die with a particular taste in our mouths, my God, I hope it’s waffles.