Joe’s brother, Bob, makes fabulous chocolates and gives them to family member and friends on all the chocolate holidays. That would include every holiday but the 4th of July.
The first Easter after Cole was born, Bob gave us an amazing assortment of chocolates, all packaged in a beautiful Easter Basket – very fancy! Cole was just a few weeks old, and I had a chocolate imbalance. Joe went to work and I ate almost every single piece of chocolate in that basket, completely inhaling the fruit-covered chocolates, and any chocolate with a hidden nut inside. Joe came home and wandered around the kitchen wondering where I put “Bobby’s chocolate.”
“Well, I ate the chocolate.”
“All of it?”
“Well most of it.”
“Katybeth. How could you possibly have eaten all the chocolate?”
“Well, it all started with the first piece I popped into my mouth.”
“All of it? You ate all the chocolate?!”
“Ok, you caught me. There are a couple chocolate cherries left, and honey, they are all yours … well, maybe just give me one.”
Cole was nursing at the time, and can I just say he did not sleep again for five years.
We won’t talk about the year Moose, my glorious Red Doberman, ate half the Christmas chocolates, because … well, we just won’t. I will say that the rumors about dogs dying from eating chocolate may, in fact, have nothing to do with the chocolate.
According to Joe, I gave last year’s Valentine’s Day chocolate to Maria, our cleaning lady. This is not entirely true. It was an Español misunderstanding. I offered Maria a piece of chocolate – at least I thought I did – and then we left for the day. When we arrived home, the chocolate was missing. I did not give it much thought because, as the years in our relationship accumulated, Joe often hid Bob’s chocolate and Lay’s potato chips from me. When Joe asked the “Where’s the chocolate?” question, I was genuinely surprised, but quickly moved to a defensive position, answering back with my own question, “What did you do with it?”
Joe flashed back, “Katybeth, which dog ate the chocolate?”
“Joe, the chocolate was here this morning, and the dogs were up when we left. Did you hide it?”
To which he answered, “Did you eat it all?”
We then jointly yelled, “Cole!”
Nobody had seen the chocolate. Nobody had eaten the chocolate. Our chocolate was MISSING!
“Oh no! I know what happened. Some no good, bad-ass varmint had stolen our chocolate! Just our luck they went straight for the good stuff – Bob’s chocolate.”
Joe just looked at me and kept looking at me … and looking at me … and looking at me.
A few days later when Maria showed up, I asked her about the chocolates. Had she seen them, put them somewhere, noticed a suspicious chocolate varmint hanging around our house? She looked at me, puzzled for a moment and then smiled.
“Señora, ¡Muchas gracias. Mi familia quería que el chocolate. La caja era tan bonita. Gracias!”
Uh? Smiling big, she acted out how much her family had enjoyed all the chocolate I had given her. If Joe had not walked into the room during the part of the story where Maria was bringing her hands to her lips acting out how yummy the chocolate was, I would just have let the missing chocolates remain a mystery forever. I am my mother’s daughter. Joe smiled and nodded as Maria continued to bring her hands to her lips saying, “de chocolate muy buena,” and then he gave me a “I knew you gave the chocolate away” look.
Ok, so I gave Maria the chocolate. It was an honest mistake. Mistakes happen. Her family loved them. Does that make me a bad person? Joe was not consoled, even when I ran out and bought him a dozen marshmallow bunnies and a box of yellow peeps. He just kept walking around the house muttering, “She gave all the Easter candy away. All the Easter candy – gone.” I lived with this story until the day I gave all our laundry to Purple Heart.
You may be thinking Joe must certainly have earned his sainthood, but don’t get carried away. I am the woman who wrote down “movie star” as my spouse’s job on our insurance application.
This Valentine’s Day, I missed Joe, but the chocolate was ALL MINE! Wait, when Cole left for Disneyland, he might have mentioned something about Uncle Bobbie’s chocolate … hard to remember exactly, though.
So glad you were in my neighborhood. Feel free to drop by anytime. I would love to hear from you in the comment section of this blog or on Facebook or Twitter! Odd Loves Company and Odd loves you and you and you!