Sunday, January 8, 2012
I Eat Chocolate Behind My Kids' Back (and other guilty pleasures)
Okay, some of you probably think that's cruel. Not me. I admit it openly, even in front of them. I will hide chocolate from them and eat it when they're not looking. No, not because I think I'm fat and I'm compelled to secretly shove sweets into my mouth like a fiend when left alone. And no, it's not because we're trying to eat healthy and I'm hiding the fact that I'm cheating. And it's certainly not because I'm some sort of sick, pathetic, strung-out chocolate hoarder. It's simply because if I don't hide the chocolate, they will devour it before I get any.
Let me give you a perfect example of my recent experience with mysterious chocolate disappearance, and yes, I'm quite sure it had nothing to do with the aliens! I received a bag of my very favorite, most yummy and delicious, melt-in-your mouth chocolates for Christmas, Lindt Lindor Truffles. There were probably at least twelve of the individually wrapped lovelies in the bag. The saliva manifested just thinking about them. I brought them home and put them in a special pretty wooden bowl so that I could pluck one from the bounty whenever I wanted to give myself a treat. Understand that these are my indulgence, my guiltiest pleasure, one of the few things I can always think of to ask for at Christmas. I think I ended up getting to enjoy two measly pieces.
Now tell me, is that fair? Because I don't think it's fair. I think it's rather unfair. You might be calling me selfish right now. Well, go ahead, make your own day, Clint Eastwood! I feel justified. I don't give a hoot. It was my chocolate and they took advantage of it. Gross and unfair advantage! Yes, I said I would share it with a lovely lilted tone of, "Sure, you can have one, honey," but then they were all gone in a flash. I got robbed by every 'honey' in the house!
My husband felt bad and said he would buy me some more (meaning I could pick them on my next trip to the store) and so I got my very own bag and didn't tell a soul. I hid them in my purse and kept my purse at my side and snuck them when kids or any other living and breathing organism in the house remained very far, far, far away. I enjoyed probably half the bag over a few days and felt like I was in Heaven. My own private Heaven. Then I sat down at the computer to write one night and was completely immersed in my craft when I heard the patter of little feet sneaking away from my office chair.
I glanced down and to my horror, the chocolates bag was sticking out of my purse OPEN! Someone had just robbed me of my precious chocolate while I was sitting right there! "HOLD IT!" I demanded to the unknown and unseen stealth thief, without so much as turning around. Turns out, it was my eleven year old daughter, who giggled in reply, "Whaaaahahahahutt?"
I shot at her, "How on earth did you even know those chocolates were there? I didn't even tell anyone I had them!" and she laughed back at me, "I saw the bag poking out of the top of your purse." I was furious. I mean, really, how dare she? But I also thought it was cute at the same time, so in order to avoid prison and keep the peace in the house, I stopped short of committing a murder and decided to laugh and shake my head in disgust instead.
I've decided that I'll just hide them better next time. Odd thing is that this particular child has a way of finding things I've hidden immediately, sometimes even by pure accident. She won't even know I'm hiding anything and still she'll bee-line right to it like she has a homing device. It's like a sixth sense she has, honestly. I could have Godiva hidden in the garage under a tarped riding lawnmower and she would burst into the house going, "Mom! Look what I found when my ball rolled into the garage just now," and there I'd be, without chocolate... again.
Just in case you're wondering what other guilty pleasures I hide from my girls, I also go out to eat without them sometimes, go shopping without them sometimes, and visit friends without them sometimes. And if I'm feeling particularly like I need some extra me-time, I go to our favorite cafe and get treats just for myself sometimes. Yeah, I can be evil like that. Evil, evil parent. Take that, insolent children!