Sneakalicious

I'm having Christmas tree envy. I miss not having that fresh pine smell or turning out all the lights except for the tree. I get one about every other year and this is an off year. Not that I'm a huge holiday decorator. I think all of my ornaments and decorations fit into a tiny file box. It's sometimes difficult to believe I'm my mother's daughter. We had several giant boxes of Christmas stuff growing up, but that's because my mom is particularly crafty and good at that sort of thing. And I'm not. Plus, I don't like having a ton of stuff in general, so's I guess that type of thing isn't in the cards for me. At least not now. Never say never.

I don't know why this popped into my head this week, but I started remembering that I was a somewhat sneaky child. One of my favorite things to do was spy. Me: "I'm bored." Friend: "What should we do?" Me: "Let's spy!" I was like a stealthy miniature ninja, slipping around corners or hovering on top of counters. I once watched my mom and soon-to-be-stepfather chatting on the couch. At some point he reached over and put his arm around her. Wow! I thought I hit the mother lode, secretly witnessing that. I don't think I ever saw or overheard anything of major interest (now that I think about it, that's a lie, but I'm not revealing anything).

I was also a particularly sneaky snacker. Up until I hit 12 or 13, I was all about junk food, people. Nary a month went by that I didn't slip unnoticed into the kitchen and palm a pickle jar or maraschino cherry jar and sneak it outside. I'd duck into the back right corner of the yard, to an area we called "the fort", and take hits off the pickle or cherry juice. Or I'd swiftly grab the parmesan cheese container out of the cabinet and dump an ant hill-sized pile into my hand and go crazy. By age 10 I had graduated to sneaking bags of chips or ding-dongs and ho ho's without asking. At my worst, I'd pilfer a handful of quarters from my stepdad's change drawer and go to the corner liquor store for funyons, slim jims and a few plays on whatever video game they had. What? You think I became the Ms. Pac-Man Champ of Southern California without a little subsidizing? (Okay, I didn't do it that much, but I was such a goody two shoes that it's good to confess that I wasn't as squeaky clean as I appeared to be.)

That's all for now. The Office beckons...