Wednesday - Mom's Candy Stash
Dec. 27th, 2006 02:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about the fact that my 2-year-old son has discovered an advantage to having a diabetic mother - I keep a stash of candy in my purse that he can raid. I do not usually give him candy, so I know he must think it unfair that I keep some around for myself. He might not be able to say the word hypocrite yet, but he sure knows one when he sees one. He also knows that the only way to deal with a candy hypocrite is to eat her candy when she's not looking.
This means that I can't toss my purse just anywhere when I walk in the door, which is my long-established habit. I must remember to put it high up on a coat hook where very small people cannot reach, at least not without help. There is plenty of help around. Since I'm not that tall myself, I keep footstools in the house so that I can reach things in the cupboards and on higher shelves. It turns out that I'm not the only person in the house who finds these footstools handy. Nothing on any countertop is secure from him, especially if that something happens to taste sweet.
A week or so before Christmas I walked into the living room to discover the contents of my purse spread out in front of the front door. The candy stash, at that time, was from a gift basket a client had sent my office. In my office of 4 people, two people are dieting and another other guy only likes sour candies and chocolates. This meant that I could abscond with the bag of fruit-flavored hard candies that no one else wanted and keep them around for my medical emergencies.
That day, as I put my wallet, checkbook and pens back in my purse, I noticed a pair of purple candies stuck to the tile floor. My son had opened them, tasted them, and found them not to his liking. I have the only toddler in the world that does not like the flavor arbitrarily known as "grape" but which is better described as "purple." When I found him and peered into his mouth, he was sucking on a yellow candy that apparently pleased him more.
"Is that good?" I asked him.
He nodded his head and made an affirmative sound. It was very good.
I suppose I could have tried to take the candy away from him, but anyone who thinks that taking candy away from a baby is easy has never actually tried to do it. There would have been tears, screaming, an attempt to flee, and the risk of him choking on his pilfered treasure in his effort to not relinquish it. Instead, I proceeded to explain that Mommy's purse is not to be messed with. He looked at me incredulously while he sucked on his yellow candy. When asked if he understood, he again nodded.
It seems the message he understood was not the one I hoped for. Since finding the contents of my purse spread out seems to get me upset, he has learned to re-zip the purse when he's done raiding the candy stash so that nothing looks suspicious. I only realize I've been raided when I find I have no candy, days after the crime scene has gone cold.
I have discovered a way to thwart him, though. Because the fruit-flavored candy is all gone, I have replenished the stash with round soft peppermints. I like them. My son does not.
He handed me one the other day, unwrapped and slightly damp.
"Here," he said, "Yuck."
"You don't like it?" I asked.
He shook his head. I could tell that he wants me to buy more fruit candies, which he thinks taste much better.
But no purple ones, please. To his mind, those are almost as bad as the peppermints.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ # ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
This means that I can't toss my purse just anywhere when I walk in the door, which is my long-established habit. I must remember to put it high up on a coat hook where very small people cannot reach, at least not without help. There is plenty of help around. Since I'm not that tall myself, I keep footstools in the house so that I can reach things in the cupboards and on higher shelves. It turns out that I'm not the only person in the house who finds these footstools handy. Nothing on any countertop is secure from him, especially if that something happens to taste sweet.
A week or so before Christmas I walked into the living room to discover the contents of my purse spread out in front of the front door. The candy stash, at that time, was from a gift basket a client had sent my office. In my office of 4 people, two people are dieting and another other guy only likes sour candies and chocolates. This meant that I could abscond with the bag of fruit-flavored hard candies that no one else wanted and keep them around for my medical emergencies.
That day, as I put my wallet, checkbook and pens back in my purse, I noticed a pair of purple candies stuck to the tile floor. My son had opened them, tasted them, and found them not to his liking. I have the only toddler in the world that does not like the flavor arbitrarily known as "grape" but which is better described as "purple." When I found him and peered into his mouth, he was sucking on a yellow candy that apparently pleased him more.
"Is that good?" I asked him.
He nodded his head and made an affirmative sound. It was very good.
I suppose I could have tried to take the candy away from him, but anyone who thinks that taking candy away from a baby is easy has never actually tried to do it. There would have been tears, screaming, an attempt to flee, and the risk of him choking on his pilfered treasure in his effort to not relinquish it. Instead, I proceeded to explain that Mommy's purse is not to be messed with. He looked at me incredulously while he sucked on his yellow candy. When asked if he understood, he again nodded.
It seems the message he understood was not the one I hoped for. Since finding the contents of my purse spread out seems to get me upset, he has learned to re-zip the purse when he's done raiding the candy stash so that nothing looks suspicious. I only realize I've been raided when I find I have no candy, days after the crime scene has gone cold.
I have discovered a way to thwart him, though. Because the fruit-flavored candy is all gone, I have replenished the stash with round soft peppermints. I like them. My son does not.
He handed me one the other day, unwrapped and slightly damp.
"Here," he said, "Yuck."
"You don't like it?" I asked.
He shook his head. I could tell that he wants me to buy more fruit candies, which he thinks taste much better.
But no purple ones, please. To his mind, those are almost as bad as the peppermints.
