Sticky Fingers

The following statement might shock and amaze you but I solemnly swear it is nothing but true. I did not know what candy was until I was eight years old. Actually, I did not know what Halloween was until I was in about first grade. Sure, I had seen the children come to our house when I was little and I would ask my mother what was going on only to be brushed aside. My mother was sort of a health nut when it came to me. However, when it came to herself she was anything but healthy.

Around the time I was in third grade I realized that though my mother had banned me from eating the wonderful sweets life had to offer, she herself had a secret stash. It was incredibly easy for me to find these treats. Though she placed them in the high cupboards my years of gymnastics were finally paying off and I was able to swing myself onto the counter top and reach my desired prize. Of course, I never took enough for my mother to notice, but there was another dilemma; what would I do with the candy wrappers?

Obviously, I couldn't throw them away knowing very well they would be spotted and my daily candy heaven would be foiled. So I did what any third grader would do, I hid them under the rug. Soon the rug had accumulated over fifty wrappers or so and a huge appreciation for candy. Usually, I was careful when I hid my wrappers making sure they were far enough back that no one would notice but one day my luck ran out. When my mother was vacuuming she lifted up the rug ever so slightly and saw a burnt orange color sticking out from inside. Of course she investigated and my candy stash was finally discovered.

I don't even want to go into how angry my mother was after that discovery, but lets just say it wasn't pretty. If I had been smart however, I could of just told her that Hermes made me do it. One could only imagine he was making up for resisting the cattle he had wanted to taste so badly and decided to try chocolate out instead.