Starbucks Card and The Great Chocolate Search

The other day, our older son Jericho came to me with a question.

Would I give him the $6 he needed for a Tech Deck toy he wanted if he gave me the remaining $8 balance on his Christmas Starbucks card from his aunt Karen?

"If you think that's a good deal, I suppose I could do that. (You know, I didn't want to take advantage of him, seeing as I'd get the better end of the bargain.)

"Really? You'd do it?"

"If you're sure."

He gave me a hug, "Thanks, mom!"

And so the transaction was made.

So earlier today after running some errands, I decided to stop off at Starbucks to use part of my recently acquired $8 balance.

I ordered my coffee frap, and Judah's Horizon Vanilla Milk. When I got up to the window, I handed her the card Jericho had given me. "Could you please check and see how much is left on this card?" I asked, feeling hesitant since it wasn't my own carefully monitored card.

She swiped it, and moments later said, "Um, there's a zero balance"

That dirty dawg! "Oh, my older son is in SUCH trouble", I said, handing her some cash instead.

She seemed kind of chatty and personable, and so I elaborated, "He told me there was $8 on that card, and traded it to me for $6 cash! He's SO busted."

She laughed. "April Fools?"

Oh, man...I hadn't even thought of that!

Could my sweet and innocent 11 year old be that devious and lowdown as to cheat me out of $6?

Nah. I don't think so.

So on the way home from school this afternoon, I casually mentioned, "By the way...about that Starbucks card? I stopped by to use it earlier today, and there was a zero balance..."

His eyes widened and he looked horrified. "Oh, man!" He thought for a moment, "I must've given you the wrong one out of my wallet!"

Now I knew about the card from aunt Karen, but where is this kid getting these other Starbucks cards? And come to think of it, why does my 11 year old even need overpriced beverages that include coffee?

I wasn't even allowed to touch the stuff until I was a teenager, and even then my grandma still pooh-poohed the notion. "It's not good for growing bodies" she'd say, and instead offer us Postum or Ovaltine. We couldn't have tea, either, come to think of it.

Jericho was horrified that I would even suspect he was trying to chisel me out of $6. "Mom, I swear...if I can't find the other card, I'll pay you back out of my account. Serious...that card aunt Karen gave me had $8 left...the Starbucks lady told me last time I used it."

I could totally tell that he was telling the truth, because his nostrils didn't have the telltale flaring.

When did he use that card from aunt Karen last, anyway, because it wasn't when he was with me! And the kid never takes his wallet with him anywhere. How is it that he's suddenly hanging out at Starbucks without moi?

Sheesh...when did my 11 year old suddenly become a teenager?

And how do I make it stop?

:: :: :: ::

Apparently, due to the fact that I got Jeff pretty good with my April Fool's day prank, and because he still hasn't forgiven me for posting here about how he doesn't hide my Christmas gifts well enough...Jeff decided to exact his revenge yesterday.

Wouldn't you know, it was on the very day I was having major chocolate withdrawls.

Which happened because we made a pact between us that in April, we were going to give up chocolate completely.

Here I was, only 2 days into the month, and already feeling totally deprived, and wanting it all the more. Isn't that so pathetic? (My spirit is willing, but my flesh is sooo weak!)

To rescue us from ourselves, Jeff had taken it upon himself to hide the leftover Easter chocolate so that he wouldn't be able to get to it at work (and hopefully forget about it once he was home) and to keep it from me while I was home all day.

And it worked!

But that didn't stop me from searching all day long to find where he'd hidden it, because my chocolate radar told me that there was indeed chocolate in the house...and my chocolate radar is never wrong. Especially if it's chocolate wrapped in foil.

Anyway, I searched my storage units, an armoire, and in several craft towers (which have about 8 drawers each, stacked vertically, filled with all manner of arts and crafts and scrapbooking supplies.)

I searched the shelves in the master bathroom where I keep extra T.P. and feminine products. And the cabinets where I keep the towels and cleaning supplies. And the drawer tower in our walk-in closet where I keep extra razors, the first aid kit and the hair clipper set.

I searched in pots and pans and crock pots and the cupboard where we keep all our baking sheets. And behind foodstuffs in the pantry. And on the very top of our kitchen cupboards.

I searched through drawers, and my cake decorating toolbox, and in mixing bowls. And bins and tubs the whole house over.

I searched under beds. And in closets.

I searched through both boys rooms, the cabinets in the laundry room...on my bookshelves behind books.

I searched through every drawer and cabinet in our house.

I wanted that chocolate in the worst way I was very thorough.

And I must give credit where credit is due...Jeff really outdid himself with the hiding.

I'd searched high and low, in every nook and cranny...all to no avail.

Finally, in a measure of desperation, I texted Jeff at work. "Must have chocolate" I typed in, like a dying desert sojourner, crawling on hands and knees in search of life-giving water.

He texted back, "Look under the straws in the kitchen drawer. I left four there for you."

He'd thrown me the proverbial bone.

Except that it was chocolate.

Four individual Dove chocolates with almonds.

And that should have been enough, I know. But the dark, smooth chocolaty goodness only whetted my appetite for more.

It's almost that time of the month, for crying out loud...I need chocolate! How can he deprive me so?

I texted him again, "Who appointed you keeper of the chocolate, anyway?"

By this time, I'm perturbed. Because I'd looked everywhere, and hadn't found it.

He texted back, "Hid it pretty good, didn't I?!"

Smart alec.

So I looked through everything again in hyperspeed, retracing my steps, just to be sure I left no stone unturned. If I didn't find it this time, I'd just stop by the store and buy some on my way home from picking our son up from school.

Because of course by this time, I'd worked off the calories from those first four chocolates. My proverbial 'tank' was on E.

On the way out the door I called him at work (his school day had just ended). "You da man, Jeff. You have stumped me completely. I give. Now where. is. the. chocolate?"

Because I humbly bowed to his superior hiding skills, he laughed, very proud of himself. "Go to the chrome rack in the kitchen."

"But I'm on the way to get Jericho" I said, a twinge of whine creeping into my voice.

"Oh, good, then I won't tell you" he says with a sinister laugh. "More for me!"

"That's so not fair! I'm PMSing, and this constitutes cruel and unusual punishment. Where is it? Just tell me, please?"

Clearly, there was some cheese out there needing to go with that whine.

"It's in Jericho's orange insulated lunch sack."

Which has sat in it's usual rumpled condition on that chrome rack next to the Costco sized box of plastic forks since the day Jericho decided it was uncool.

Hidden. in. plain. sight!

The dirty dawg!

I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to let him in on where I hid the stash of my "naughty" (double chocolate almond) biscotti. At only 140 calories and 3 grams of fat they are a safer bet than most candy bars...and are capable of curbing a rabid chocolate craving.

I know, because I picked up a Costco size tub of them on the way to collect Jericho this afternoon, lol.

Guess we'll have to shoot for May to begin our chocolate-free diet.