Since I was little, I have loved Cadbury Creme Eggs. The original ones - not those wanna be caramel ones or mini-eggs. Those are lame. The original Cadbury Creme Eggs, however, are one of the greatest pleasures of life.
Since I started buying my own groceries about 15 years ago, I've purchased my very own Cadbury Eggs. On my weekly grocery trip, I always buy two -- one to have that night and one to have one other time during the week when I really need a delicious sweet treat. The Eggs have a season that lasts from about mid-February until Easter, so that does limit my consumption of them to about sixteen Cadbury Eggs per year. Only sixteen. Since I love them so, you can see why it's important that I not miss any of my planned Egg opportunities.
But this year, this year of 2012 when the Mayans predict the end of the earth, Keaton discovered my Cadbury Eggs.
It started innocently enough. One Sunday night after I had been to the store he saw the Eggs and asked, "What are those?"
"They are my favorite candy ever," I responded.
In hindsight, I should have said, "Vitamin rich spheres of dirt covered mud beetles."
What came next, of course, was "Can I have one?"
This is my youngest son, a child I carried within me for nine months and watched take his first breath. He is the bringer of joy and laughter into our home. I would give my right arm for him, my left one, too, even my life I would give!
But my Cadbury Creme Egg? Sometimes our children just ask too much.
I took a deep breath, warned him that the creamy texture inside isn't for everyone, and told him he could have one of the eggs, all the while secretly hoping that he would find it disgusting and run to the trash to spit it out.
But he loved it. He ate the whole thing.
I took a deep breath and adjusted my Egg shopping strategy in my head. It's okay if he likes them. It's really okay. I just need to make sure he has some and I can still have two per week. That's not so hard. I can do this. The Mayans weren't right -- the world will continue to spin.
The next Sunday, I proudly bought three Cadbury Eggs. That night, Keaton and I each enjoyed one. It was a wonderful, chocolaty bonding experience.
Then the next night it happened. After dinner he said, "Mom, can I have one of those creamy egg things?"
"I don't know if we have any more."
But I did know. I knew we had one more Egg and I also knew that it was mine. I was already one down on my sixteen for the year, and this little rat wasn't about to take another one of my Eggs. I even bought him one of his very own, and still he wants more and more and more. Am I destined to never have Cadbury Creme Eggs to myself again? Who does this child think he is wanting his "creamy egg things"? He doesn't even understand the delicacy that he is partaking of. He doesn't deserve that Egg.
He knew we had one, too. Innocently (or so he wanted me to believe), he said, "Yes, I saw one more on the counter."
I panicked. I didn't know what to do. I was having flashbacks of the episode of Friends where Joey couldn't go out with a girl because she kept eating food off his plate. I kept thinking "Joey doesn't share food!" Finally, in a moment of brilliance, I shouted, "WE HAVE ICE CREAM!"
"Do we have chocolate syrup?" he asked.
"YES!" I shouted, sensing I was about to win.
"Okay, that sounds good," he responded.
Sucker.
I made him a bowl of ice cream, and then I did what anyone else in my shoes would do. I took that extra Egg off the counter and I hid it. That's right, I hid that thing where no one would ever find it. No one but me.
I think he asked about it one other time that week, and I told him I wasn't sure what happened to it. Technically, I wasn't lying. I did put it in the cabinet, but it had been a day or two so something else could have happened to it since I last saw it.
A couple of nights later, we were letting the boys stay up a little late watching a movie in Tucker's room. Trey and I were watching tv in the living room, and I was on the couch enjoying my previously hidden Cadbury Creme Egg the proper way. (You must peel off just enough foil to get to one bite at a time, and then nibble away the chocolate in that section, scoop out the creamy filling with your tongue, marvel at its goodness, and then move on to the next small section, peeling the foil as you go. But anyone who's ever had an Egg already knows that.)
I was about halfway through the experience when Keaton came out of Tucker's room to ask for a glass of water or something. I tried to act cool, holding the Egg down so maybe he wouldn't see it, but trying not to be so obvious that he would know I was hiding something from him. I thought I was in the clear, but at the very last second he turned around and said, "Hey! Where did you get that?"
As I fumbled for words, my back-stabbing husband did not hesitate. "She hid it from you."
"What? Where did she hide it?"
"I can't tell you or she'll be really mad at me," Trey said.
Traitor!
I felt bad. I felt that my love for Cadbury Eggs had overtaken my love for my youngest child, and I felt guilty.
But then I took another bite, and I felt better.
