sweet satisfaction

parents of teenagers have often warned us that coming down the pike are the days when our children will make poor decisions, and how we'll just have to bite our tongues and let them learn from their mistakes. i have many examples of just when this has happened in my own life ... times that i look back and initially think, how in the world did my mom and dad not say anything? but then realize that the lesson would have been lost had i not had the opportunity to learn it for myself. unfortunately, at the tender ages of two and four, our children have already begun making such poor decisions that, frankly, it worries chris and me. the issue? candy. they both have a bucket full of halloween goodies, hard-earned from parading up and down our neighborhood streets and remembering to ring the doorbell ONLY ONCE and saying thank you without being reminded. it's only fair they are allowed to enjoy the fruits of their labor -- even though we allow them just one piece after lunch and one piece after dinner, and only if they eat their meal. so what do they do after meeting all our demands? they bypass the good stuff. the butterfingers, snickers, kit kats -- ignored. instead, time and time again they dive into their stash, rummage around, and soon emerge triumphant, holding what chris and i refer to as Reject Candy: the stuff that would normally be left at the bottom of the barrel come mid-november. what child in their right mind chooses mike & ikes over a reese's cup? a box of dots over a nestle crunch? gummy worms over a milky way? chris and i watch in silent amazement as they make poor choice after poor choice. but then, behind their backs, we give each other a high-five. you know what they say ... their loss is our gain. i need to sign off now. i just smeared almond joy chocolate all over the space bar.