Like a Thief in the Night

Question: Are all children just natural-born thieves? Does everyone's house get burgled on a regular basis ... from the inside?

In this house, nothing is sacred.

No. Thing.

Not pencils. Not toys. Not food. ESPECIALLY not food.

I was not prepared for the amount of food young boys can eat. Teenagers, yes. I buy lunch meat, cereal, and milk by the truckload for the teenagers. But that's so typical, it goes without saying. No one was ever surprised by how much a teenage boy eats.

But it ain't the teens that are killing me.

It's the minions. 

They are 9 and 10, but they eat like 15 and 16. And it's not like I starve them.

They have hot breakfast at least 3-4 times a week.

They have a morning snack at school.

They have a good-sized lunch.

They have a snack in the afternoon. Frequently multiple snacks.

They have a good filling dinner every night.

But apparently that's not enough. Granola bars have a shelf life that can be calculated in hours. I buy about three bags of those Cutie oranges every week. We go through a dozen yogurts in the blink of an eye. And the bananas ....

Oh my — the bananas! Don't get me started on bananas.

But it's not the eating that bothers me. It's the sneakiness.

Every now and again, I'll go comb through their room, and what do I find?

Orange peel on the bookcases.

Granola bar wrappers in the pillowcase.

Candy and cheese stick wrappers under the bed.

An empty bag of marshmallows in the closet.

Squished juice boxes under the chair.

So we decided to get sneaky right back.

We recently purchased a new wireless security system for the rental house we're moving into and the house we are building. And we decided to give it a test. In the kitchen. [Insert devilish laugh here.]

We warned the kids ... we set up a camera on top of the kitchen cabinets that was pointed at the pantry door. They know it's there. And I have to admit, it seems to have cut down on the renegade snacking.

But then we took it up a notch. We put an alarm on the pantry door. 

The first night we armed it, we didn't tell the kids. At about 9:30 ... loooooooong after bedtime ... the alarm was tripped. Loud beeping came from the kitchen. My phone buzzed with the notification. Herb's phone buzzed too. We looked at each other and giggled.

BUSTED!

Enter a wide-eyed nine-year-old.

"What were you doing in the pantry?"

"I thought I heard you guys in there, so I came down to see what was up."

"No way, kid. Not buyin' it."

"No really! I thought I heard you!"

"Good try. Back to bed."

As he walked away, I heard him mutter, "An alarm ... on the pantry. No way."

Yes way.

But you know what? I bought a box of granola bars the other day. It's still there, on the shelf, where it's supposed to be. And there are still granola bars in it.

Maybe ... just maybe ... I'll stop going to the pantry and reaching into a box to find out it's empty. I'll stop going to make a recipe that chocolate chips and find the bag missing. And maybe one day ... a banana will turn brown.

A mom's gotta have hope, right?

Eat well,

DDD