After returning back to headquarters Saturday night with scads of candy, sweaty hair, and cavities at-the-ready, the kids dumped piles of loot on the dining room table and declared victory.
Victory over vegetables, unprocessed food, and moderation in any form.
And at that brief moment when sugary bliss intersects with a primeval need to organize the booty [booty 1 |ˈboōtē|:• informal something gained or won]…THAT is the moment when 8 year-olds reach for the label-maker.
1. Obtain Rubbermaid container for “non-chocolate” items, being careful to sort out any dangerous, braces-endangering objects such as Jolly Ranchers, Laffy Taffy, or worse…the terrifying…DOTS. [cue Jaws music and smoke]
2. Obtain larger Tupperware container and label with “Chocolate.” Tip: “If you don’t know how to spell “chocolate”, just copy it from the wrapper of your Hershey bar.” Response to said tip: “Thank you, son. Good to know.”
People, do you SEE this organization?? I know, I know, you may think it a bit Type A. But lest you assume this level of sorting and labeling is a lifestyle, allow me to assure you that indeed, it is NOT. His bedroom is a tornado. The space under his bed is a private storage bin. The floor, a dumping ground for wet towels and dirty underwear.
So why this determination on Halloween? Easy.
“Mom, I take my candy seriously.” [Yes, that is a direct quote!]
I can’t argue with that.