I was so done!
While Halloween is definitely a special time of the year for yours truly (the original Wicked Witch of the East - yeah, I'm the meanest one), there is one thing that sends me right over the edge.
We have the little ones, who somehow fly through all of their candy the day after Halloween, flagrantly spreading candy wrappers all over the house. My floors looked like a humongous candy wrapper mosaic!
The 6 older kids went to school the second day after Halloween this year. They knew to hide their candy.
But, somehow, some way, little Aaliyah and Chase found prime opportunities (like when I went to the bathroom or put the baby down for a nap) to follow their incredibly accurate radars and scope out the hidden candy.
And then, there were the candy wrapper mosaic floors in the bedrooms. I was so vigilant that first day, stopping them from heading to the bedrooms every ten minutes or so. There was no need to go there when no one was home, other than to get into something.
No!
Then, the kids got home from school and I ended up with a thick and fluffy candy wrapper carpet! It was enough to make me want to vomit.
By Tuesday, I was seriously done with the shenanigans. I told the children to take their candy to school. I didn't want it in the house.
It was a candy wrapper free day. Until they came home.
By Wednesday, it was like someone was strumming my last nerve like you would strum a guitar. "I don't want to see any more candy or wrappers or I am throwing it away!"
Ten minutes later, "Someone pick up these candy wrappers!"
Another ten minutes later, "I mean it! It's going into the trash if I see anymore!"
The threat was enough for my kids, although I still spotted those tiny torn corners sprinkled here and there like a light dusting of snow. I made it through Wednesday.
It was Thursday that did me in. After cleaning the house from top to bottom, clean an pristine, not a crumb in the corners or a toy out of place, the kids came off the bus and started sharing the candy love.
Once again, the sweet interior decorating ensued. The only thing that halfway maintained any sanity that I had left was fancying what I was going to do during the night when the house was asleep.
That night, I confiscated all of the candy around the house. Triple bagged the stash. Snuck out the side door to the outside trash can and ditched it all.
Back inside of the house, I sat down, partially at peace.
Yet, I felt a tiny twinge of guilt.
Little voices replayed in my head. "I worked SO HARD for this candy!" I remember them bragging. They had tramped and tromped all over our part of town, up and down driveways, begging "Trick or Treat!"
They had exerted themselves to come up with the cleverest costumes. And helped each other out getting ready.
And I threw what was left of that tremendous effort into the trash can...
So, against everything inside of myself, I went back out to the trashcan, grabbed the triple layered bag off the top (it was plenty protected), divided the remaining sweets and treats the best I could, placed them all back in their "hiding spots," and went to bed.
What can I say? I'm a sucker for these little brats.
But, I don't want to see another piece of candy until Easter! I mean it!
