Monday, December 26, 2011

Now You See's It, Now You Don't

When I was a child I remember going to my grandma's house for Christmas and, of the many gifts she received, she always had a box of See's candy by her side that she never shared, and I mean never

I grew up in California, which is synonymous with See's since it is headquartered in San Francisco, but now you can get it almost anywhere--even in airports and libraries--but there is still one place you can't get it: where I live. 

So this year when I found out my local library had a few dozen boxes for sale, and knowing the closest See's location is like 2.5 hours away, I was attached to my box like a baby to a pacifier dipped in sugar water.  And I felt even more privileged when I found out I'd bought the last box of savory dark chocolate's. 

Unlike my grandmother, I decided to share my delectable box of goodness with my two smalls.  I opened the box, displayed the various options to both girls and told them they could each pick two.  After all, I remember what it felt like to ogle my grandmother's box and wish that just once she would give me a single, solitary piece.  What better way to break the trend than to offer a couple from my own box to my kids?  And when I did, it was a pat-my-hand-on-my-back moment.  I was the good Samaritan of my household.  My kids looked at me with more awe than they look at Santa Claus, and a headline formed in my head: Cheryl Bradshaw wins mother of the year.

With my good deed done and the cycle of unshared chocolate broken, I went ahead and had my own piece.  And by that, I mean one piece.  The next day I ran an errand and left my teenager home to watch over the smalls for about an hour.  I return home and they are in such good moods I decide they should be rewarded with another piece of candy.  So I go into my room to retrieve the box, but it isn't there, and I could have sworn I'd moved it to my bedroom the day before.  I'm too young to forget to do things like that, right?

By this time I'm in hot pursuit of the See's candy box, and I find it on the sofa in the same place I'd left it the day before.  I guess I'd only moved it to my room in my mind, which is some kind of Jedi mind gift I didn't realize I had.  I look around and notice my kids have went to their room to play.  I call them out to reward them for being so good while I was away, but first I make them a sandwich and go chill in my room for a few minutes.  My oldest small eats her sandwich faster than I can take a piece of gum out of the wrapper and pop it into my mouth.  And I think, hmmm. So I ask her if she ate it all, and she says, "Yes."  But the longer I think about it, the more it doesn't bode well.  I use my newly acquired Jedi senses and go into the kitchen and open the lid to the trash can.  Therein lay the sandwich--uneaten.

For effect I go to the sofa and reach for the box of See's candy to show her that I was going to give her one as a treat, but she didn't eat her sandwich and on top of that, she lied about it.  Guess what that means?

I pick up the box.

And I notice how light and airy it feels.

And I think to myself, that's pretty light for a five pound box.

I remove the lid.

Even the wrappers are gone.

I look at my two smalls and they look at the floor like it's part of the glittery road in the land of Oz.  I say, "What happened to my candy?"

In unison they reply, "I dunno..." and look at each other like they'd formed some super secret sister pact.  But guess what kids?  Mommy had a sister when she was younger too.

In that moment I was stripped of my mother of the year award.  They had stolen and lied about it.  Awesome.

In the end it turned out that the smaller of my smalls had one piece.  She's not really one to rock the boat, and I believe she was under duress from the older small to sample a piece, so she did.  And when I found part of it stuck to the side of the sofa, I realized she hadn't felt good about what she did and sticking it into the side of the cushion had been the remedy she needed to sooth her feelings of regret.

The older small, however...different story.  She ate the entire box and then thought she could somehow convince me that the chocolate had mysteriously evaporated during my brief stint away from the house.  She did eventually fess to the crime and is currently serving time in a sugar-free zone.

Oh, and if you're wondering where my teenager was during all this, in her room, of course!  And yes, with the door shut.  I think it goes without saying that she has been relieved of her babysitting duties. ;)

Until next time...


  1. Love your writing and love this post! That is so funny. Hey, maybe granny wasn't sharing because she was wise! Now I am on a hunt for a box of see's. I simply must try these chocolates!

  2. Wonderful post! I will be back for more. Thank you for following on Twitter.