Candy Picking

Today I've been strolling down memory lane and this picture made me laugh.  That's yours truly with the Buster Brown haircut and if you are too young to know who that is then just google it.  Anywho, the picture was made at my grandparents house at White Rock, upstairs at their big old house in their den.  On that secretary is the peppermint candy jar they always kept filled with candy in addition to the Whitman Sampler Chocolates that my grandfather kept up high in his closet.  Why up so high?  Who knows. Notice how I am dressed sort of like a boy....and what about those short bangs and that forehead of mine?  It's as big as a billboard.  My mom once told me my dad had wanted me to be a boy so maybe that explains my attire.

When we were little, my grandfather would only get down the box of chocolates if you asked him, but then there were "Rules".  You could have whatever piece you wanted but you had to eat whatever you chose.  That candy picking was dangerous business.  Since we kids all hated coconut, nuts, and other assorted weirdnesses, picking was like candy Russian roulette.  You either won big or lost big.  I learned if the piece was heinous, to act like I was going to the bathroom, wrap it in TP just to be sure it didn't reappear and come back to haunt you, and give it a big old flush.  My grandfather would have KILLED us if he thought we were not eating his precious pieces of candy.  He was tough and you did not mess with him or his rules.  Flushing was dangerous but necessary.

My system was fine for piece #1, but then you had to wait a decent length of time before you asked for another piece, and then the cycle started all over again.  You never got more than two pieces so you had better be on your game.

Sometimes, peppermints were just less stressful.  You could see them and you knew what you were getting even though they weren't chocolate.  Ahhh...the good old days.  I don't miss them at ALL.