The Bonbon Bamboozler

A Story by JSDrumheller

The lengths a mother bear goes to hide her chocolates from her greedy, gobbling, sneaky husband and son.

A bear named Misses Benson went to the chocolate shop for some bonbons. “It’s remarkable, Sherry,” She complained to the mole behind the counter. “My Husband and son have noses like chocolate detectors. No matter where I hide my bonbons, they sniff them out and gobble them up as soon as my back is turned.”

Sherry Underwood handed a sack of assorted chocolates to Misses Benson. “My Stanley is the same way,” she whispered confidentially. “And there’s only one way to put a stop to it. It takes vegetables"Lots of vegetables.”

Misses Benson moved in closer and listened intently.

“Here’s what you do….”

Later that evening, Misses Benson came home to her cave in the woods. Mister Benson sat at the table helping their son, Barley, with his homework. The moment she entered the room, their noses lifted in unison and delicately sniffed the air. The smile they shared told her they had detected the sack of chocolate in her handbag.

Their smiles disappeared, however, when she set an armful of vegetables upon the counter. There were celery stalks and cauliflowers, turnip greens and spinach leaves, and worst of all a mound of disgusting Brussels sprouts.

The Bensons were used to eating savory stews, hearty roasts, and steaming biscuits that dripped with butter"but never vegetables.

Barley looked at them suspiciously. “What are you gonna to do with those?

“That’s what we’re having for dinner tonight,” she replied, ignoring their worried faces.

“But dear,” whined Mister Benson. “Those are vegetables.” The very word seemed to leave a repulsive taste in his mouth.

“Hush now you two,” snapped Misses Benson. “We are going to eat vegetables with dinner every night from now on. Now go wash up. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

As soon as she was alone, Misses Benson quickly hid the chocolates where Misses Underwood had advised. Then she took out the pot roast and baked some hot rolls. When the vegetables began to boil in a big cauldron on the stove, the steam filled the cave with a revolting aroma.

“Oh my Heavens!” gagged Mister Benson from the other room. “What’s that stench?”

“It’s burning my nose!” complained Barley. “It smells exactly like an outhouse!”

“Put a lid on it, you two. We’re having Brussels sprouts and I don’t want to hear any sniveling.”

At those words there arose a mournful wail.

At dinnertime Misses Benson daintily speared a sprout with her fork and popped it into her mouth as though it were delicious.

Mister Benson had devoured generous helpings of roast and was pleased to have made it all the way through dinner without eating anything green; but just when he thought he was safe, Misses Benson slopped a gob of sprouts onto his plate.

Poor Mister Benson! As he stared pitifully down at the soggy bulbs, the thick aroma wafted up from his plate and into his nostrils. “Blah!” he wretched. “The fumes practically cling to my nose hairs.”

“My nose hairs are shriveling up one by one,” added Barley dramatically. “They are like foul little cabbages. Greens are the rottenest things in the entire world.” He pushed a sprout with his fork. The slimy green skin looked like a boiled frog and left a mucous trail as it squished across his plate.

“Hush now, you two,” reproached Misses Benson, and the remainder of dinner was quiet except for the occasional whimper.

After the dishes were cleared and washed and set to dry on the rack, Misses Benson pulled on her shawl and headed for the door.

“I’ll be stepping out to visit Misses Billingsly for a few minutes,” she announced. “It seems she’s taken rather ill.”

No sooner had the front door clicked shut than the two bears sprang into action, scouring the cave for chocolates.

“Hurry!” cried Barley, pulling the cushions from the couch. “We don’t have much time!”

“As soon as I taste a piece of chocolate I’ll get that horrible flavor out of my mouth,” said Mister Benson as he thundered down the hall to search the laundry room.

What they did not know, however, was that Misses Benson had only pretended to visit Misses Billingsley. Instead, she spied in through the windows to see if they would discover her sack of chocolate.

They searched all the places where chocolate had been stashed in the past" behind the library books, in the sock drawer, at the bottom of the laundry basket, and inside the cuckoo clock"but to no avail. At last Misses Benson came back inside. She found them in the kitchen feeling crestfallen and baffled, swigging glasses of cold milk.

“It’s time for bed, Barley dear.”

“Aww, Ma. Do I gotta? It’s so early.”

“Get your pajamas on and brush your teeth. Run along now.”

Mister Benson lumbered to the washroom to try and scrub the revolting smell of boiled sprouts from his nostrils.

Alone at last, Misses Benson opened the refrigerator and pulled out the vegetable crisper drawer. From underneath a pile of celery and cauliflower, turnip greens and Brussels sprouts, she pulled out the sack of chocolates. She carefully selected a fat little bonbon, filled with rich chocolate and caramel and sprinkled with walnut crumble. Then she popped it into her mouth and with a contented smile wondered why she hadn’t thought of this hiding place sooner.

Thank You For Reading!

*There are more stories and pictures for you at Drumhellerstoryteller.blogspot.com