Claire’s Candy Carnage
Around 6:30 this morning I got up to take Claire for her walk. She trotted downstairs with me and walked nonchanlantly right past the 13 Tootsie Pop sticks scattered on the dining room floor, all gleaming and completely bare, pristine as sun bleached bones. Their wrappers lay like scalps all around.
I’d parked the candy bowl on a chair by the front door before going to bed so we would be ready for Halloween (I wonder if I’ll ever learn).
I don’t think it ever entered Claire’s mind that I would give the mess a second glance, but I was so surprised that my feet froze. I looked at her in stunned silence (I know that last part is hard to believe, but it’s true), and instantly she put her tail between her legs and slinked back upstairs.
I didn’t yell at her. And since John’s mom asked, we didn’t spank her either. In fact, we didn’t punish her at all, at least not intentionally. But tonight, as an army of trick-or-treaters passed by our door, she had a pitifully sad look on her face as she sat and watched the magic candy bowl slowly empty its wonders into the hands of strangers.
Don’t feel sorry for her though. She got more candy than any kid did.