The Munchkin Monster Strikes...

Hurricane Irene left us without electricity for 36 hours.  I was okay without the television.  The lack of lights was a nuisance but manageable.  The thing that drove me toward madness was lack of tea.  Not only do I use an electric kettle to boil my water, but my kitchen stove is electric.  Knowing my penchant for the leaves (and experiencing first hand my "pleasant" personality due to withdrawal), my dear hubby kindly went to Dunkin' Donuts to purchase their largest container of tea for me.  While he was there, he decided to get a large box of munchkins.  He thought the kids might enjoy picking on them. 

For Angela that was an understatement.

Both John and I found her several times at the kitchen table digging in the box of sugary holes.  We would quietly sneak up on her and ask, "Angela, what are you doing?" when we reached her side.  I loved how she tried to pass off our discoveries with nonchalance and a sweet smile.  But even those two things could not disguise the chipmunk checks she now possessed and the donut crumbs around her mouth. 

We were not angry at her.  However,  Angela must have figured out that cramming her mouth full with donut holes might potentially cause her parental grief.  Her tactic- to hide her snacking through camouflage.  Instead of eating the whole munchkin, she would take one bite of it and put it back into the box.  I guess she thought we were just counting the number of items in the box and we would not notice the large bite in each one. 

I am not sure if I should be amused or scared by her logic.  Part of me is impressed, but I am left to wonder....is this the sign of a potential criminal mastermind?  Am I going to have to worry about her hacking into millions of bank accounts, taking a nickle, and hiding her ill gotten gains in some Swiss bank account? 

The only thought that consoles me is that perhaps her behavior is genetic. 

If Angela is the Munchkin Monster then Alice is the Muffin Monster.  I have never seen a kid so crazy for muffins.  I once made these apple whole wheat muffins for breakfast.  We had about six left over.  I left them on the counter to cool completely before storing them.  A few hours later, I went into the kitchen to put the leftovers in a container.  There were two left.  I walked into John's office and asked, "Not that I care, but did you eat all those muffins?"  He looked surprised and informed me that he didn't.  This left us with only one other suspect as Angela was not born yet and Puggie is not springy enough to reach the kitchen counter.  Another time I actually got the leftover muffins into a tin.  Regardless, they were not safe there.  When I went to eat one I discovered that all six muffin tops had been devoured.  The Muffin Monster's fingerprints were all over this one again.

More proof for the genetic argument comes from the conversation I had with my sister Megan about these instances.  Oddly enough while she listened to my stories, she had opened a box of muffins and was eating the top off one of them. 

Genetic pools have lots of strange quirks floating around them.