Adenine. Guanine. Cytosine. Sucrose?

22 Dec

It’s like a spoonful of heroin just sitting in front of a junkie. The junkie can’t help herself.

If I see a piece of candy nearby, I must have it. I’m totally helpless.

I blame my parents.

This past weekend, as I sat at the breakfast table and devoured a snowman-shaped cookie, dropped two or three truffles into my mouth, and snacked on various chocolate drops, my mother-in-law masking her disgust asked me, “Where do you get your sweet tooth?”

And I went back in time. To my dad’s car where I always knew there’d be several of those plastic containers full of Tic Tacs hiding in the console. To my kitchen as a little girl, where Mom always had M&Ms in the freezer, because they’re way better cold. To our first house, where I would stand on our dog’s back and get down the candy jar. Then sit on the linoleum floor and play one-for-you-one-for-me with the bull terrior. I was maybe 2.

“Do you get it from your parents,” I hear my mother-in-law ask from another time as the ten year old me and my mom pull an unopened bag of Wint-o-Green Lifesavers from out of her purse in the dark theater. Then nearly eat the plastic, too, as we crunch down on them and make them spark green before the movie starts. I’m 11 and I’m at Dad’s house and he lets my sister and me have one of those tiny chocolate bottles filled with liqueur. Dad would never approve of us having any kind of alcohol, but this was candy!

I was trick-or-treating, a five year old She-Ra, and I got some Red Hots (or Cinnamon Imperials, depending on the brand), and Mom snatched them from my plastic pumpkin because she wanted them NOW. I’m back at home with my treats strewn on the floor and Dad grabs an appropriately named Sugar Daddy and greedily eats it.

“Yes,” I tell my mother-in-law, through a dusting of cocoa powder, cookie crumbs, and gobs of creamy truffle. “I do believe I get my sweet tooth from my parents.”

“It’s in my DNA.”


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