Cherry Chocolate

Cherry Chocolate

A gold box with an assortment of all shapes sits on the kitchen table. Some have sprinkles, others have a chocolate drizzle on top. There is one fat one in the middle that is different than all the rest. I just have to have it. I bite through the chocolate  shell into a juicy cherry. Fruit and chocolate together? Genius! I hear something from the other room. Its Daddy. Uhoh. I run into my room and spit out the remainder of my second bite. Behind my giant stuffed Teletubbie will have to do. My heart slows down after a few seconds and I begin to feel brave enough to venture out of my room. Big mistake. Daddy is standing in the kitchen with a frown on his face. His eyebrows move together when he is mad and his forehead gets all wrinkly.  It reminds me of my dog. “Maybe If I’m quiet he won’t know I’m here. I can just say Stephy did it.” 

Twenty minutes ago Daddy came home with a box of chocolates for mom for Valentine’s Day. He wanted to make her feel special. “This is for your mother. If you want a snack there is food in the fridge.”  He says  to my triplet siblings and me. “Lauren, do you know why there is a chocolate missing from the box?”  His eyes are like ice. They squint at me accussingly. 

I shake my head as my cheeks begin to flush with shame. He blames me. They always think I did it?  “Come here, let me smell your breath.” My feet suddenly forget how to move. “Come here I said.” I’m frozen. He walks over as I look away. I know I’ve been caught. My mind is reeling in an attempt to find a way out of this. I come up with nothing. “We will see what your mother thinks of this.” 

I was always the one out of the three of us to get mysef in trouble as a little kid. Because of this they were always quick to blame me. Also, I was the one with the sweet tooth. I used to hide chocoloate under my pillow so I could eat it without my mom seeing. It was a great idea until it melted all over the place. My mom had a lot of questions that day. Looking back its easy to see how my parents knew it was me. At the time though I felt that everyone was just against me. “Why did everyone hate me?” 

Never has an hour gone by so slowly as it did as I sat awaiting my fate in panic. I wonder if this is what jail feels like. Time passes and I hear her keys being set on the table. The jingle jingle that would sound normal any other day sounded like a death sentence to me. Then it was quiet. I know then they are talking about me. I press my ear to the door in an effort to confirm my fear. I quickly jump back as I hear her coming. “Come with me honey we are going to the store.”

She is happy as we drive to the store chatting away about her day. I think for sure that I got away with what I did. I hold on to her hand with a feeling of relief as we walk into Market Basket. She leads me straight passed the milk and bread aisles towards the chips an candy. Wooho! My day just got even better, I think to myself with a smile. My mother goes straight to the boxes of chocolates. The same boxes as the one my dad bought.  She picks up one then another then two more and casually puts them in the cart. I sit in a confusion the rest of the way home.  I only ate one. So why is she buying so many more. Maybe she likes them as much as I do. We get home and my mom piles the boxes neatly on the table.  “Your father told me that you stole a chocolate today. Did he ask you not to touch them?”

“Yes” I say 

“If you want to eat chocolates so badly. You are going to eat all of these and not get up until you are done.”

Wow! I think to myself. This is the best punishment Ive ever had. I get to eat a bunch of candy! I happily eat the first box and move on to the next. Then another box. Chocolate after chocolate. the punishment is suddenly not fun anymore. The chocolates begin to lose their great taste. They are so sweet. Too sweet. They are so sweet they are almost sour. I only took one little chocolate its not fair.  I eat another and another.  My stomach begins to feel heavier after each one. I hate her. Another. I can’t do it anymore. I push the box away in disgust. My mom looks at me sadly, yet she pushes the box back towards me.  My head spins, my forehead sweats, I throw up all over the floor. My siblings run in to make sure I’m okay and give my mom a look of worry. I cry to my mom to let me stop.  She finally picks me up and puts me on her lap. 

“Stealing is not okay. It will make you sick afterwards. Do you understand that?”she asks.

“Yes I whisper.” I fall asleep on her lap. 

When I awake my mouth is dry and my heart feels heavy. 

Looking back I wonder if this punishment was just. For several days after the punishment I would not talk to my mother. I thought what she did to me was cruel. However, as cruel as my punishment was, my mother succeeded in giving me a negative association with stealing. Unfortunately, a negative association was also formed with cherry chocolates. To this day I cannot eat cherry chocolate. The thought of it makes my stomach turn.

In reality stealing may not make a person throw up. But any person with a conscience will end up feeling sick with guilt afterwards.  I know for sure I want to teach my children this lesson one day in  a less drastic way.