Who Ate the Salt Water Taffy?
Almost thirty years ago, shortly after my parents got married, my older siblings were staying with them. There was a box of salt water taffy sitting out, and much to my mother’s chagrin, it disappeared in under a week. Mom, of course, blamed the kids. Dad never said anything.
Fast forward about twenty years. Mom pulls (I think it was) cookies out of the cabinet. They’re nearly gone. She looks at me and asks me if I ate them, which I hadn’t. Dawning came on my mother’s face. She turned to my father and said, "It’s been you all along! And you let the kids take the blame!"
Well, now we’re wise to Dad’s game. He’ll eat the candy, and never tell anyone.
Fast forward about twenty years. Mom pulls (I think it was) cookies out of the cabinet. They’re nearly gone. She looks at me and asks me if I ate them, which I hadn’t. Dawning came on my mother’s face. She turned to my father and said, "It’s been you all along! And you let the kids take the blame!"
Well, now we’re wise to Dad’s game. He’ll eat the candy, and never tell anyone.