Lies and Twix

I identify with this girl.

Last night we went to the least hoopty Wal-Mart near me because there are two and this one's further away but it's nicer, to get some of life's essentials: Green Lantern underwear, some kiddie bathing suits, and some giant plastic containers to shove my closet into when I attempt to clean it at some point probably never (with pink lids and that snap, too! Bonus!)

I was in the checkout line when I made a gametime decision and stuck a double Twix on the belt BECAUSE IT'S THAT TIME OF THE MONTH AND I EFFING NEED SOME CHOCOLATE DAMMIT.

I added it quite inconspicuously behind the large bins so as to not draw attention to it and have to share. MINE, ALL MINE!

Of course the lady blew my cover and stuck it near the credit card swipey thing and they both spotted it from their little cart-seats, got giddy and got that crazy candy-gleam in their eyes.

So I quickly said, "Look over there!" and pointed out the door (yes that still works) and I stuck the Twix in one of the bags, while giving the cashier the stink-eye. She got my point.

I thought it was all done and overwith but my 5 year old has a mind like a steel trap and that's why distracting him with shiny objects never ever worked, not even as a baby. It used to make me crazy when people would say, "Just distract him!" because they didn't understand, THAT DOESN'T WORK.

Of course he didn't let it go.

Out in the parking lot, Mommy, where did that candy go?

Candy? What candy?

"I put it back," I find myself telling him.

Yes. I lied. I am not proud.

And I just want you to know I don't make a habit of lying to anyone, including my 5 year old, I might leave out some information to my kids and offer information on an as-needed basis, but I always tell the truth so I don't even know why I lied, perhaps because of the overwhelming urge to NOT SHARE in this situation I don't know. Hormones make you do crazy things. Like lie to your 5 year old about candy.

I am like Gollum the Twix is "my precious."

I see his face registering, not letting it go but not bringing it up again either but I'm waiting for it.

Whew.

It is dropped.

We go to McDonalds to meet my dad and have some ice cream near the play area (yes, the ice cream was the immediate fix, it is nonfat ice cream if that makes you feel better, the Twix is for the reserves. Don'tjudgeme.)

After the lunacy and germfest of the play area and the giant iced coffee I got, we head home.

It's way past bedtime.

The car conversation goes like this:

Aidan: Mommy, I want you to prove bedtime. (I can tell he has no idea what he means.)
Me: What do you mean?
Aidan: What does 'prove' mean?
Me: It means you have to see something in order to believe it.
Aidan: I want you to prove you gave back the candy.

Dammit!

So we get home and as I'm getting the bags out, I shove the candy in my purse. Because I'm not going down for a Twix!

We barely get into the door and they want to immediately put on their dinosaur and Green Lantern underwears that they picked out so one is busy getting nekkid near the front door and the other one is rifling through the bags, I'm assuming, looking for the Twix.

He comes up empty.

He puts on his Green Lanterns, everyone helps clean up our messes from the day and we get ready to watch the tail end of Diego. It has now been hours since Wal-Mart.

Mommy, I want to see inside your purse.

What is this? Freakin CSI?

Of course I immediately feel like I've stashed a body or something and I'm busted but it's just a Twix and I try to remember that as the guilt begins to overwhelm me.

I make up yet another lie. Well it's not in my purse, if I'd have kept it, it'd have been in the bags.

What is wrong with me!? I may as well have said, "So there, nanny nanny boo boo," after that.

(Thank God I thought ahead to put my purse in my room. Yes, somewhere deep down, I knew he'd ask to look in my purse.)

I'm stressed out about the web of Twix lies I've weaved. And ashamed.

As well I should be, I'm setting a terrible precedent here.

I can hear the Twix from the other room now, it is like the Telltale Heart it just gets louder and louder reminding me of my inner chocolate-filled pms devil.

I need to stop this and go out in the garage and eat this thing already before someone catches me.

I'll see ya later.