Candy Thief

Every so often, my children feel compelled to torment me, and one of their favorite ways of doing so is to bring up my shortcomings from the past. Watching me squirm as they embellish stories from those times brings them untold amounts of joy. One of the favorite ribbings details my thieving ways, at least when it came to candy.

Probably my family members are the only ones who know of my weakness for sweets. I’d rather have a huge wedge of cake or slab of pie than healthier foods. My fondness for sweet things extends to candy bars as well. With any of these, I lose all sense of proportion. The fact is that I can eat an entire pie or bag of bite-size Baby Ruth’s in less than a day’s time.

My favorite holidays as a child were based on the sweets that might appear. Easter was good because chocolate eggs, jelly beans, and later, Reese’s eggs appeared in baskets on that Sunday morning. Christmas was wonderful because Mother would begin the six-week cycle of making pies, cakes, homemade candies, and Rice Krispie Squares.
My favorite day, however, turned out to be Halloween. It was the time when the gang of boys from Ball Camp and I could go door-to-door and beg for treats. We’d walk several miles on our quest for sugary delights. With rounds finished, I’d pour my loot on the bed, and like every kid that’s ever trick or treated, I’d separate items. I culled fruits and hard candy from the soft candy and popcorn balls and candy corn. For the next couple of days, I ate from the pile on a constant basis.

My children enjoyed the October experience as well. The difference was that they were more interested in collecting the stuff than in eating it. On Halloween night Lacey and Dallas would fall into bed exhausted, and within minutes, they were fast asleep. Then I made my move. I sneaked into their rooms and pilfered the choices pieces of their collections and convinced myself that it would go unnoticed. My assumption was wrong, especially after a couple of raids.

My children suspected that something was awry. They took their hoards and hid them. Lacey would put hers in a dresser drawer or under the bed. It was to no avail as her loving father uncovered the items and left the room for a place where he could safely munch on his prizes.

It was evident that Lacey had talked with her brother and warned him of my determined searches for candy. He plotted longer and came up with the perfect hiding place. It had to have been since I never found a single Hershey’s kiss from that time on. The little guy wouldn’t divulge the safe place either.

I was defeated and discontinued my night searches. Even then, the kids made jokes with their mother about how low I was for stealing candy from babies, and I agreed that my sins were many.

Only one thing gave me a moment’s satisfaction in this situation. Dallas never has cared for sweets, so he forgot about having placed the candy in a place I would never find. Sometime in November, a mouse appeared in his room. He was scared stiff of the thing and didn’t want it crawling into his bed some night. We captured the rodent and evicted it from our home. I continued searching his closet, the place where the rodent made its home. I found a bag of candy hidden in the recess of one corner. Little gifts that the mouse left made signaled its chomping on the stuff.

I was perturbed with my son. His hiding candy resulted in an infestation in the house. Worse still, he’d stowed away his candy and the mouse got it instead of me. Now I ask all: which is worse—my eating the candy of a mouse’s devouring it? Yes, I agree, it comes down to one rat or another.

I’ve never lived down pilfering the sweets my children gathered on Halloweens. However, over the years, I’ve grown immune to the teasing and joking at my expense. I still have a sweet tooth but, of late, have tried to limit my intake candy so that the doctor doesn’t fuss at me too much.

I love my kids and grandson. Madden’s parents watch his candy intake, and when I visit Nashville, they stash any treats he might have to keep me from getting to them. Yep, I’m guilty as accused as a candy thief.