Last night I was in the front room clearing up some of the mess, when Alison came in to do some school work. She brought in that expensive box of Lindt chocolates that she'd received for her birthday.
"Are you having a go at me" she asked indicating the box, of which only a handful remained.
"No, what do you mean?" Mystified.
She turned over each of the remaining chocolates to reveal a tiny bite-sized chunk had been taken out of each one—the worst was a little log which was almost hollowed out.
For the last couple of weeks, Jude has been sneaking downstairs first thing in the morning and raiding the lolly cabinet. Now I have a huge issue with us even possessing a lolly cabinet, but I married the daughter of the owner of the Asquith Corner Store, didn't I? Since the store has closed down, Des and Sue have progressively bought all their remaining lolly stores into our house. It does give them a weapon in the armoury whilst looking after our kids three days a week, I must admit. But since discovering Jude's little morning habit, we've moved all the lollies out of reach and hoped that the problem had disappeared.
But now the chocolates.
This morning, after coming back from her run, Alison goes into the kitchen and there is Jude, startled, with a big block of chocolate in front of him:
"I'm only breaking it up into pieces for you, Mummy."