tonight I read a bedtime story to my boy.
we got to the part where the sister is leaving notes complaining about the selection of snack foods in the house. She complains that she doesn't really care for plain potato chips, and could the new housekeeper please buy the barbecue kind that she prefers. At this point, I'm really siding with the main character, and feeling slightly annoyed at the sister for being so snooty and persnickety.
We then learn that someone else has been licking the barbecue flavor off the potato chips and putting them back in the bag.
Now THAT's awesome... and then I just couldn't help myself.
and I couldn't stop.
Instead of finishing the story, we shared a good, hearty laugh.
Then I tried to remember any naughty food adventures I was a part of as a child, and I just couldn't come up with anything (except what I avoided eating, like breaded fried liver bites) partly because I have inherited my dad's memory genes and partly because we were just too dang poor to have things like potato chips in the house to begin with. Never mind a housekeeper.
a good story + comic relief = AWESOME.
Now fess up: are you the one that eats all the chocolate bits out of the trail mix, leaving peanut crumbs and salty raisins for the rest of us?