Selective Sharer

This is the post where all of you will finally agree that I am a terrible mother. It's okay, because in this circumstance I am one.

Years ago I had a friend who told me I was a "selective sharer".  I thought for a minute before wholeheartedly agreeing with her.  I had just offered my friends some Starbursts and they were surprised to only find cherry ones in the package. Did I happen to find the only package of all cherry flavored Starbursts? No, I had just eaten all the other flavors. I hate cherry, but instead of throwing them away, I offered them to my friends. See, I was sharing them.  What does it matter if I was only sharing the candy I did not like.

Unfortunately this practice did not stop when I had kids.  Candy is stashed on the top shelf of our kitchen, the kids know that, but what they don't know is that the only candy there is the candy I hate. Kit-Kats, Hershey chocolate bars, suckers, if it is chocolate or a hard candy it is there.  But, what the kids do not know about is my secret stash of candy and cookies. The candy I love is hidden in a different place altogether.

Every now and then I will make a pot of coffee in the afternoon and with it goes a girl scout cookie or a piece of caramel. The boys always ask where those came from and I just say they are mommy's. They look at me longingly with big eyes while I drink my coffee and eat my yummy treat.

The worst offender by far is my grandma's caramel corn. I get a one gallon bag each year on Halloween. I am a little obsessed about this treat, and will not share, even with my husband. I put it way up high on the shelf, planning to eat it after the kids go to bed. But my oldest saw it and asked if he could have some in his lunch on Monday. Um, no. That seemed mean so I tried to say it was because he will be having enough sweets and treats at his party in his classroom. He didn't need to add caramel corn to the mix. But secretly, I was thinking, oh no, this is my bag of popcorn!

See, what I mean by being a terrible mom?  I know my sister, who is already completely upset that the boys wear used underwear, will be horrified to know I do not share with my kids. She, who gives up the last piece of cake to her kids, will not understand my unwillingness to share.

In my defense, there is a piece of apple pie on the counter. It has been there since Friday and I have not eaten it in secret, after the boys are in bed.  I am working on being an adult and sharing the treats with them.

Well, that, and I don't really like apple pie that is bought from a store.

See, what I mean? Selective Sharer.