Something strange is happening. As the mother of a four year old Girl and lolloping Teenage Boy, I find myself behaving very oddly. If I’m not answering surreal questions at 7am like ‘Why do we have elbows?’ or ‘What happens if one legged people get tired?’ I’m hiding food. I can’t quite believe I’m typing that – it strikes me as the kind of thing a quasi-anorexic obsessive would do. Yeah – or the parent of a Boy who seeks out and scoffs anything remotely nice like a heat seeking Exocet sugar seeking missile.
At first we tried hiding the kitkats in the vegetable drawer because as Husband reasonably surmised, ‘What teenage boy is going to look among vegetables?’ But Boy soon sussed that one. Then we put packets of biscuits in the DIY cabinet along with light bulbs. That was quite successful for a while. I know it all sounds ridiculous. But really if I ever want just ONE lousy biscuit or the occasional packet of crisps, I have to squirrel them away in cunning hiding places. Yesterday, the DIY hiding place was discovered in an unguarded moment. As I removed a nutty bar chocolate thing to add to the pile of lunch stuff for the Boy, a look of peasant cunning came over his face. A look that said: ‘Ah! I have found your hiding place for confectionery mother!’
After he went to school, I decided the only place left to hide the chocolate was in a few of the antiques, and so far he hasn’t clocked it. We have in our possession on of those antique Egyptian things that used to store a dead person’s heart. Now it contains something even more precious; ten snickers bars. Ha!