After dad settled down to watch TV, I sneaked into the dining room and gorged on the delicious, chocolate covered candy. In my childish mind my actions were justified. If dad can do it, so can I.
Christmas morning came, and I felt so tired that I didn't even feel the usual excitement of opening the presents. I didn't sleep well, tossed and turned most of the night. Dad was yawning and seemed tired as well.
After we had opened the presents, mom said, “Now we can eat some Christmas candy.” She reached up to take one, but when she touched it, the shiny wrapping paper flattened between her fingers. She touched the candy one by one and only found a few at the back of the tree that still had the bon-bon in it.
Mom looking at our guilty faces burst out laughing. “I guess you two didn't sleep much last nigh having a sugar high and now you can barely keep your eyes open! You learned your lesson I guess, next year leave some candy on the tree for me.”
From then on, it became a tradition to “steal” a few candy off the tree but dad and I never again put ourselves into a sugar coma.