Pack Rat

My arms are full of dirty clothes as I pass my son in the hall on the way to the laundry room.

“Hi,” I say.

“Nothing! I have toys in my pockets.”

Of course, this gives me pause.  I didn’t ask what he was up to or insinuate that I was suspicious of him in any way.  I drop the bundle on the floor and raise my eyebrows but don’t say another word.

After a second under my gaze he asks, “Would you mind awfully if I had a piece of candy?”

“You may have one, but you have to give the others back.”

“OK,” he agrees and starts unloading his pockets.  I regain possession of 1 Almond Joy, 5 Tootsie Rolls, 3 very melted candy kisses, some already opened Smarties and 3 suckers.

Good Grief.  This is why I can’t buy Halloween candy until the night of trick-or-treating.  Between him and My Honey, I’ll have to resort to giving Rice-a-Roni and canned peas to the kids and risk a pack of seriously disgruntled goblins.