A Saturday night treat was a tradition in my family growing up. Sometimes it was glazed doughnuts from the Westover Bakery or a bag of miniature Hershey bars. (My favorite were the red Krackel bars.) We also loved Brach’s toffees that were wrapped in different colors of cellophane and had raspberry, vanilla, buttercream, maple, or chocolate fillings. And then there were M&Ms, jelly beans, gumdrops, or whatever my mom found on sale. Needless to say, a sweet tooth is in my DNA. One of my Dad’s frequent sayings was, “Sweets, for the sweet.”
When my kids were little, I stayed at home. Our finances were tight. My husband sometimes became angry if he felt I had squandered our money on too many treats for the kids. He had grown up in a home with very few treats. “What if we have Saturday treats?” I asked. He agreed to that compromise.
Saturdays I went to the grocery store. Often I would come home with a movie-size box of Hot Tamales or Mike & Ikes. The kids would grab the box, run to the living room, and carefully divide the candy into four equal piles. If it couldn’t be fairly divided, the extras went to mom. Thanks, kids!
I’m afraid I cursed my children with my sweet tooth. Yesterday, my son felt he hit the jackpot when stopped at a gas station on I-95. He’d discovered a favorite cousin of Mike & Ikes: Cherri & Bubbs, a rare find these days. Or so it seems where we live. This time, he got 4 boxes instead of one-fourth of one box.
“I’m candy rich!” he wrote in a text to all of us.
I wonder how long they will last.