The kids got a ton of candy for Valentine’s Day. Both of them got something from Sam and me, from school, and from their grandparents. I think they might have ended up with more candy than they did at Halloween, plus 20 or so shitty pencils, plastic slinkies, erasers, etc. Like any other toddler, Baby Girl loves candy. She has perfected the art of asking for candy, too, by batting her eyes, flashing the biggest, cutest grin ever, and saying, “May I have some candy, please?” in the sweetest voice. She’s a master, and can almost always get a little something any time, day or night.
(While writing this post, she told me, “Mommy, I see that chocolate egg. I see it. Chocolate eggs my favorite. I wanna eat it. Can I eat it, Mommy? Please?” Didn’t work that time, since she hadn’t had supper yet. And, yes, we have chocolate eggs, plus a ton of Girl Scout cookies, plus all the candy, since Sam had a small lapse in judgment this weekend.)
On Friday, Baby Girl asked for a piece of Little Man’s candy. Among other things, Little Man got a heart-shaped box full of Hershey miniatures. Since he’d taken some of her stuff, Sam told her to go ahead and gave her the box to pick something out. And then he walked away. Big mistake.
Here’s part of what he came back to five minutes later:
Yep, that’s one or two bites taken out of each piece of candy. Before Sam “took one for the team” and ate some of them, there were 12 pieces that had little bites taken out of them. Good thing I didn’t let her get a hold of my Hershey’s Pot of Gold assortment.