Wednesday, November 7, 2007


I have no qualms about helping deplete the kids hard earned halloween candy. After all, it was ME who had to single-handedly keep them together, keep them from running out in front of cars, and get them into their costumes correctly. And I'm not one of these moms who hide the fact they raid the kids candy and do it while they're at school. I eat it with them. So imagine my surprise when Daughter came out from the bedroom with a Jolly Rancher for my approval (making sure it's actually candy, yeah uh huh, not at all trying to limit the actual intake of candy here). I don't mean one of the small, fat rectangle pieces. I mean one of the long, flat pieces. It was half the size of the jolly ranchers that we used to buy as kids. I did what any normal parent would do. I pouted. I haven't even gotten into the bowls far enough to notice this candy. So she tells me there's another one. I perk up some while she brings me one. Sour apple. I could feel the smoothness of the candy on my tongue and I hadn't even opened it yet. It's the type of candy I gave up when I had my braces so that I didn't have to explain to my parents and orthodontist that I had a piece get stuck to a bracket and broke it trying to get it off. The kind of candy that I never really picked up again after I did get them off. So I kept it. It's two days later and I'm still working on this beautiful thing from my childhood. This is the type of candy I will now have to keep my eye out for, so that I can enjoy the memories again.

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