The Department of Candy Hoarding

Both boys know the rules.  Whoever is lucky enough to get picked up from Russian Math by Daddy gets to stop at the overpriced variety store around the corner and get a unit of candy on the way home.  Usually, it's Ian and Starbursts or a chocolate bar.  But tonight, with Ian still recovering at home from the flu, Madeleine just dropped Daniel off and had me pick him up.  So Daniel was my passenger, and the acquisition-of-the-day was one of those awful hard-candy sticks, in a colorful cylinder made to look almost like a lipstick case.

Needless to say, he wasn't nearly done with the gargantuan mass of sticky bright-red confection when we got home, about a half-hour later.  I instructed him not to share the news of his excellent fortune with Ian or Madeleine, so he started thinking of a hiding place to store his candy.  Needless to say, all of the proposed sites were within Daddy's car.  Pointing toward what some of us call the upper and lower glove compartments, Daniel showcased his first two candidates for candy storage:

"The glove department or the other glove department - or you could just call it The Department..."

(April 9, 2013)