The real purpose of Halloween Candy inspection is simple, its safety. For Max, I believe this is highly understandable that before he eats anything, its best to be inspected by a trusted adult. I’m the trusted adult in this story and here’s the story of how by the end of this, three whole peanut butter cups were missing. Scary.
The Haul Hits the Table
At 8:30 p.m. Max’s official job for Halloween night is to dump the contents of his pillowcase across the kitchen table.
Piles of candy. Chocolate bars. A toothbrush. Candy corn. Bubble gum. Candy corn again. Raisins. More chocolate. A fistful of lollipops. Some kind of taffy I’ve never seen before. More candy corn.
The Inspection Begins
And my job, MY sacred and official parental job, is the ‘safety inspection.’ “Before you eat anything, Dad has to check it,” I tell Max. I do this to protect him. As I pick over the haul I’m looking for items that appear to be unsafe. The obvious red flag is a torn wrapper, in which case I toss the offending item. Other red flags are home made goodies from suspicious neighbors, which also go immediately in the garbage.
The First Suspicious Chocolate
Hmm, this peanut butter cup seems suspicious to me. And so, Max’s pile grows smaller; the pile labeled Further Testing grows larger by one.
This one looks a little off.
The Further Testing Pile Grows
Raisins are okay. Weird taffy is okay. Toothbrush is fine. I pick up another PB cup. Seems fine. This Snickers bar seems okay. But wait, what is this weird looking piece of milk chocolate? I’ll have to look into this. It goes in the Further Testing pile.
Max Starts Asking Questions
“Dad, why is all the chocolate in your pile?”
‘’Chocolate is very complicated, Max. You leave that to Dad, okay? Chocolate requires a trained professional.’’
Max shrugs and wanders off the kitchen.
The Testing Process
I dig back into the Further Testing pile. I crack open the mysterious piece of milk chocolate, and take a small nibble. It seems fine. Next, I pick up a peanut butter cup, crack it open and eat half of it. Seem’s okay. I crack open a third PB cup and eat half of this one, too. No problemo. The pile labeled Further Testing is shrinking! Victory is near!
I look up and Max is staring at me from across the kitchen table. Behind Max is an empty milk carton. In front of Max are four empty candy wrappers and a pile of crinkled up foil. Max is eyeing my mouth suspiciously.
The Negotiation
All of a sudden I realize that I am caught, red handed, or rather red mouthed.
I sit down heavily and sigh. Negotiations begin. He suggests two candy bars and a later bedtime. I offer one and no delay in bedtime. Eventually, this back and forth resulted in two candy bars and no delay in bedtime. A just outcome in all fairness.
What I Learned
Next year I’ll buy a few PB cups for myself, in advance, and tell myself that it’ll be impossible to give in temptation during the Safety Inspection. I know with complete confidence that come 8:30 next year, some other chocolate will look fishy and need further testing.
