Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Candy Monster

Holidays mean candy.  It’s stupid but true.  I always secretly hope the kids gorge themselves on their candy finishing it the same day they receive it.  If it sits around I cannot guarantee its safety and I’m not much of a sweet tooth!  Even if I exercise self control I can’t keep it out of the clutches of


The Candy Monster.  The red eyes and chocolate goatee give her that devil incarnate look right?

The Candy Monster finished all of her Easter candy before lunch on Sunday.  Heath told her that she ate enough candy and she needed to stop.  She walked away from him and told me to close my eyes while she not so secretly peeled her Cadbury egg.  Clever.  I told her I knew exactly what she was doing so she continued to peel and close her eyes in rapture as she bit into the decadent egg. 

When we came home from church I saw her munching right along with her brothers.  My suspicions were confirmed when I caught her stealing candy out of her brothers’ baskets.  The next day I heard this

Parker:  Mom, why did you put our Easter baskets in your office when there’s still candy in them?
Me:  Because I had to get it away from your sister! 

The boys’ candy was bagged up with their names on the bags.  I know enough not to put it in the pantry cupboard where little fingers can reach.  I put it up in the same cupboard I keep my purse in.  I’m just waiting for Gwen to figure it out and push a chair over there to help herself the same way Parker used to help himself to all the gum in my purse. 

My boys don’t have much of a sweet tooth.  Gavin always wants to save his candy for later.  Parker is an out of sight out of mind kind of guy.  He will eat until it’s gone or taken away then forget all about it.  Gavin just forgets all about it.  He’ll bring stuff home from school and forget he ever had it.  Meanwhile I have it saved in the cupboard for him where months later The Candy Monster eats it. 

Sometimes I think I have a magical cupboard.  My porch used to be magic but we haven’t had any mystery packages left there for a few years.  The cupboard on the other hand is magic.  The Candy Monster is in sync with the magic and somehow knows when the candy inside is ripe for the picking.  I can rearrange the shelves when she’s asleep upstairs and find an old package of candy canes from Christmas.  The Candy Monster spontaneously asks for a candy cane the next day.  She finds old lollipops that Gavin has clearly forgotten about and begs me for one.  I give in and the next thing I know she’s found another one.  Are they reproducing in there?  Kind of gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “behind closed doors . . .”

In the afternoon while both boys are at school The Candy Monster grazes.  It’s not uncommon to see both pantry doors open with a chair shoved in the middle.  It’s uncommon to see the doors shut and know she’s anywhere else in the house.  The daily question is

Gwen:  Mommy.  I hungry.  Can I have a snack?
Me:  No.  It’s not time for a snack.
G:  But I hungry!  Mommy.  Can I have chocwate?
Me:  No, we don’t have any.
G:  Yes we do!  Chocwate chocwate chocwate! 
Me:  We don’t have any chocolate.  Go play. 
G:  Mommy.  I want this one.
Me:  What’s this one?
G:  This one!  (pointing at the box of extra otter pops then she runs to the freezer and pathetically pulls on the handle as if she has never opened the freezer before)
Me:  No!  You don’t need one. 
G:  Mommy.  Can I have fyoot snacks?  I hungry.  I want a candy cane.  Can I have a yahweepop?  Pwease pwease pwease!  I axe nicewee!  I want crackers and string cheese.  Mommy.  I hungry. 

Every day.  Until my ears bleed.  It doesn’t matter if I give her short answers in simple terms any small child can understand or long orations until I’m blue in the face.  She only hears yes.  And if she doesn’t hear yes from me she hears yes in her own head and forages in the cupboard for food as if I never feed her.  That’s when she finds long forgotten stashes of candy and I seriously wonder if The Candy Monster is really a Candy Fairy that waves a glittery wand to create the ultimate environment in the cupboard for the production of stale candy to satisfy her every whim and desire.  Any time I give in to her candy wishes thinking the candy will be gone and out of the house if I do, there’s always somehow more tomorrow.  Rinse, lather, repeat.  This idiot would like to get out of the metaphorical shower! 

I do like Candy Fairy better than Candy Monster.  She seems to possess some power over sugar as if she’s naturally drawn to it.  The other day she brought me a Kool-Aid packet and asked what it was for.  I’m impressed she didn’t just rip it open and go for the contents minus the sugar.  But I went with Candy Monster because this morning she told me that I was making her a monster when I rinsed the shampoo out of her hair.  Who knew?  For instant monster just douse with water. 


Unfortunately it’s a personality trait that she has not outgrown. 


Candy Fairy or Candy Monster, this girl is a sugar fanatic, with root beer colored eyes, and proud of it. 

By the way, the chocolate never came out of her pajamas.  She has a lot of perma-chocolate-stained clothes.  The best Candy Monster story I have is this:  The kids were all sitting on the couch watching TV.  I was on the phone with Heath when Parker came over to me.  I waved him away mouthing that I was on the phone.  Why do kids always need something when I’m on the phone?  He persisted.  I tried to ignore him but the words “Gwen has poop everywhere” rang through.  I casually walked over to the couch thinking it couldn’t be all that bad. 

No, it was worse.  I looked down at little girl covered head to toe in soft, smeared brown goo.  Heath heard what Parker said and what I said when I saw the scene.  I threw the phone onto the couch and gingerly grabbed soiled toddler.  Rushing her into the bathroom I realized it was chocolate and not . . . you know.  I had to laugh at the mistake but I was still pretty annoyed with the amount of chocolate everywhere.  Thank heavens the shirt was white and for whatever reason she didn’t have pants on after her nap.  I bleached the shirt and my sister knows the rest of this comical story because the hilarity didn’t end there.  Maybe I’ll divulge my deepest darkest secret in another post. 

2 thoughts:

Becca Jane said...

oh my heck, Gwen is Roo!

"More candy! More chocolate!"

The Piquant Storyteller said...

They say that you are what you eat and girls are supposedly made of sugar and spice and everything nice!