Haunted by Ritz Crackers

Here's a strange story.

Some years ago, not too long after we had just moved into our house, I came home from work and went downstairs to find a small but noticeable pile of cracker crumbs in the middle of the family room floor. Centered in front of the TV and between the ottoman and the sectional. Upon further inspection, they were Ritz Cracker crumbs. There they sat, no other sign of crumbs or disruption anywhere else in the room.

A week or two later, I was doing laundry. While folding the whites, I pulled out a pair of underwear. (Tighty-whities, as you've probably heard of.) Now. Andrew does not wear this particular style . I do not wear this particular style. They were quite small, and this is way before we even had Emily. They were the size of a pre-teen boy. The waist size was faded, and I could not read the tag.

There are 3 explanations to this. 1- The house is haunted by white things. 2- Andrew is secretly eating Ritz in his underwear when he comes home for lunch (in underwear 3 sizes too small, mind you). Or 3- the teen girls that used to live with their family here still have keys and have cracker parties with their boyfriends while we're at work. Now you choose. Of these three explanations, is there one better than the others?