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  • Cheri Newell

CHOCOLATE HIGH

Where's My Halloween candy?


“Mom, where’s my Halloween candy?” Jordan asked.

"In a safe place," I replied.

"But it's mine," Jordan wailed. "I worked hard for that stuff last night."

“If I hand over your treat bag, what will you do?”

“Eat as many treats as I can.” Jordan grinned.

“I’m trying to keep your teeth from falling out," I replied, “and your tummy from aching.”


"I'll share with Nike." Jordan's pleading smile was ear to ear.

"No, no, sweetie! Doggies can't have chocolate! NEVER!" I said. "Do not give Nike chocolate. It could kill him."

“Got it,” Jordan said. “But can I have a piece?”

“Eat your lunch and we have a deal.”

Charli was happy to get a chocolate, but Jordan tried to work me for two. He was a serious chocoholic.


“Would you like to go visit Nana and Papa this afternoon?” I asked.

“Papa is teaching us how to play chess,” Charli said.

“Nana has a Halloween treat for us.” Jordan jumped up and down.

I gave my husband a look, hoping he would talk to his mom about sweets.

“It’s delicious and nutritious,” Nana would say, winking.

As my husband and I left his parent's house to do some errands, I began worrying about the sugar load Jordan might consume.

“It’ll be alright, honey,” my husband assured me.


When we returned, I walked into an empty kitchen, but spied an industrial strength chocolate bar (not the small ones I grew up with, but the monster ones about ten times bigger) on the table. There was only a half bar left, cracked in pieces.

We found everyone in the upstairs family room.

“Papa always wins,” Charli moaned. "I'll get him one day." Papa chuckled.

Jordan was busy running around everyone in the room.

“Did you play chess, Jordy?” I asked.

“Yeah, but they’re too slow with their moves, so I like to run in-between turns.”

Nana peeked over her favorite magazine, sheepishly grinning.


“I think it’s time to go and give Nana and Papa a rest.”

We all passed hugs back and forth and then climbed into the car to go home.

En route, Jordan’s legs never stopped scissor-kicking in the back seat.

“I feel a little shaky and I don’t know why," he said.


“I saw half of a chocolate bar on Nana’s kitchen table. Why didn’t you eat the whole thing?”

“Because that was my second one,” Jordan said, moaning.

“If you were a dog, you would be dead by now.”

My husband and I shook our heads as we drove home. We called the doctor and were assured Jordan would be okay, but a little cranky.


If I must confess, I am something of a chocoholic myself, so I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Almost busted by my son several times, I have diligently tried to hide my chocolate. Sorry to say he picked up my trick! I have found stashes in my son's pockets, drawers, and pillowcases... and there may be some chocolate I haven't found yet... which leaves me to ponder... THE KID DID WHAT?


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