Candy!

The car doors slammed shut and I could feel two pairs of expectant eyes boring into the back of my head.  We were taking our nieces for a sleepover at our house.

I am not a parent.  I am not a parent on purpose.  I relate to animals much better than I relate to children but the state seems to frown upon leaving bowls of food and water on the floor so I knew I’d have to try a little harder.

“What do you guys want for dinner?”

A shrill screech emanated from the back seat.  “CANDY!!!” the two of them said (somehow) in unison.

Candy is a given with our sleepovers.  We routinely take them to the grocery store, let them pick out whatever they want, binge on candy and movies and then we send them home.  This is what aunts and uncles do and we are very good at this.

“Yes, we will get candy.  But, we need to have dinner first.  We need to at least pretend like we are parents.”

I was very proud of this declaration.  This was definitely a parent-like statement.

My youngest niece said, in her most convincing voice, “You’re not parents!  You’re party animals.”

I know better than to argue with a child who is right.  Candy, it is.

(image of woman courtesy of David Castillo Dominici/ freedigitalphotos.net)