…so before she falls asleep tonight, BC smells my breath. “mama,” she asks, “what did you just eat?”

“i ate an M&M.” mea culpa.

“i want an M&M now!” she protested, sounding a mite too close to veruca salt for comfort.

“you’ll be getting boatloads of candy tomorrow, don’t worry about it,” i countered. “i won’t get any from trick-or-treating.” gotcha there, sistah.

“yeah, but you’ll be taking candy from me afterwards.”

::doh::

she continued. “you know, mama, you’ve been taking my candy for seven years now. why don’t you leave mine alone and take from julian this year?”

damn. she actually noticed. this child of mine, who doesn’t notice that she’s wearing stripes with polkadots, who wouldn’t notice if an alien dropped from the sky whistling “dixie”, yeah, she notices anything to do with sweets.

lesson learned: mess with my chocolate and die.