Do Not Go With the Gut Response

Truly, I have made it a goal of my adult years to avoid criticizing someone else's food choices (with the possible exception of Checkered's peanut butter devotion - but I think that's allowed.)  Seriously enough, if someone tells me they don't eat meat, I'm sad for them, but I don't screw up my face and look like I have the worst gas pains ever.  I don't.  If my friends imbibe too much and say things they might well regret later, they won't remember, but I will because we don't imbibe at all.  I also never say a word about our differences  regarding alcohol consumption.  Why?  Because I hope I am closing in on maturity.

That all brings me to last night.  As I walked into work, I was greeted by a full-time faculty member who offered me a donut.  She was really delighted and impressed with her own thoughtfulness toward those of us who labor in a dank, rat-infested dungeon while we are constantly bludgeoned with clubs as adjuncts.

Nevertheless, I declined her lovely and gracious offer by replying that as the sole daytime guardian of my children's halloween candy, I was failing.  It's just the siren voice of that chocolate, that caramel, that high sugar content which calls my name more beautifully than any human can.

The full-timer said, "What?"

 "No thanks."

My response triggered something within her which caused her to pull her chin up just under her eyebrows.  Her top lip disappeared somewhere inside her nostrils.  And those eyebrows were knit together with pure perfection.

"Candy?! Don't you know how bad that is for you?  How old are you anyway?"  And she marched off toward her office.

It took me several hours to recognize the irony of her reaction to my refusal of her donuts in favor of candy.

And in there somewhere is probably the solution to the mystery of why I have never been invited to join their full-time faculty.

Do you suppose it's too late to ask for that donut?