The Day My Daughter Caught Me Stealing

Hello, my name is Kelsey, and I’m an addict.

It started out so small and seemed innocent enough. I’d be sitting in a waiting room and pick up whatever foodie magazine the office had lying on the table. Inevitably, I’d see a recipe and think “I HAVE to make this! I can’t LIVE without this recipe.”
At first, I would search my purse for a pen and paper and quickly jot down the ingredients and read through the instructions. I’m a great cook so I did not usually need to copy everything.
Eventually, I’d cast glances around the office to see if anyone was watching as I’d tear one or two recipes straight from the magazine and tuck them into my purse.
Two days ago, however, I did the low of the low!
I am a rotten, dirty scoundrel! Enticed by not one, not two, but dozens of healthy, colorful, paletable recipes, I took it! I took the WHOLE magazine.
Heart pounding, I rolled it up and shoved it into my big bag!
Redness crept into my cheeks. Just as I was closing my bag I turned to see a technician walking down the hallway. Did she see me? If I take it out now and they see me, they will know? When I went to check on my daughter, I thought everyone was looking at me like they knew!
No, no, who is going to miss this? These kinds of offices do not have stoves! Why subscribe to gourmet foodie mags when all anyone really wants is to read People magazine and drink a cup of coffee? I mean, no one actually wants to admit they like reading People. They read it in waiting rooms because it is there.

Later, in the car, I had to take the magazine out before going into the grocery store with my 8 year old daughter.

“Mom, where did you get that magazine?”

“uh, uh, well, I uh, I stole it from the waiting room!”

My daughter’s eyes bulged and her mouth gaped open as she said “Mom, I can’t believe you did that! You told us there is NEVER a reason to steal. You have to take it back.”

The shame! The guilt! When had I become so addicted to recipe stealing? I agreed wholeheartedly, promised my daughter I would never ever do it again, apologized profusely, and and told her the next time we went in, I would take that magazine back along with two of my own cooking mags.

But until then, we are going to plan our meals around the recipes in that beautiful magazine and copy down the ones I want to keep. I can’t help myself! I have already made two and they were amazeballs!

The Effisit

I often do or say things I’m not proud of. This was one of those moments.

I’ve become a Late Person. The person that is late. For 33 years, I have prided myself on being everywhere early. I’m not too late these days, but late enough that I have finally stopped apologizing and instead purse my lips and look sheepishly at whomever was expecting us to be on time, like my son’s preschool teacher.

After three days in a row of showing up late at preschool, we were determined to get him to school on time that fateful day.

The plan was to be in the car exiting our long driveway, by 7:40, get my son to the preschool doors at 8am, run errands at Wal-Mart, then get to another town 30 minutes from Wal-Mart by 9:30 for an appointment.

I needed paperwork for the appointment. I remember leaving it in the van. We were in the van at 7:40. No paperwork. I ran back inside to search the kitchen/dining area, which was a mess of breakfast dishes and cereal, chairs pulled out. No paperwork!

My husband and I ransacked the van. It was now 7:50. TICK TOCK!!! We were already screwed on time and had to leave. In a major frustrated huff, I uttered this exact sentence.. “Where the F is it!!?”

I rarely swear, especially the F word. I don’t like saying or hearing it. Thankfully I only said the letter, but still….

I ran into the house once more, for 30 seconds, to no avail, then shlumped down in the front passenger seat as my husband pulled down the drive.

It was then that my sweet, innocent 5-year old asked “Mommy, did you find the Effisit?”

Heat crept up my face! I was in no mood for laughing. I looked to my husband to see if he had heard our son. Yes, he had and raised his eyebrows at me.

So I turned and answered my son. “No son, mommy could not find the Effisit, we looked everywhere.” And thank you for not asking what the EFFISIT is!

We were late by 7 minutes getting him to school. The appointment that was meant to take a max of 35 minutes took an hour and a half, because I lost the Effisit.

Because the appointment took so long, we were not only late in getting our son from preschool, but he was already sitting on the bus because I had failed to call his school that we were going to pick him up.

Oh F.