Chocolate Underpants

A couple of days ago, I was feeding my three homeschoolers and Hubby their lunch. Halfway through his plate of ravioli, our Baby Boy asked if he could have dessert when he finished. Before even considering my answer, my mouth said "No!" Well, I stood there for a moment considering this, and I thought about how I really ought to say yes more often, especially when it was such a harmless request. I also thought about the fact that we had three left over desserts languishing on the counter or in the fridge. I knew without a doubt that those desserts would begin to call out enticingly to me about ten o'clock that night, and if I did not dispense with some of them I might be tempted to eat chocolate birthday cake, topped by fudge peanut butter brownie, with a side of chocolate pudding. And then I would wonder why I couldn't sleep.

So I looked over at Baby Boy and said blandly, "You may have a slice of chocolate cake. But don't even think of calling it dessert."

He replied amiably, "Well, what should I call it?"

"Chocolate garnishment."

At this point Hippie Boy pipes up. "WHAT'S chocolate garnishment? It sound like an undergarment."

At which I begin sputtering. Through my laughter I manage to get out, "From now on it is no longer called dessert. It's chocolate underpants!"

So this is why our entire family dissolves into hilarity toward the end of every meal, as someone feels obligated to ask if there is any chocolate underpants. I am fearing the rare day we go out to eat in a public restaurant, and a waitress has the bravery to ask if anyone would care for dessert!