Just Admit I saved Your Life

My sister Cassie is still mad at me for eating her Halloween 3 Musketeers.

This happened over thirty years ago, and she still brings it up.

When we were kids, we'd get home from trick-or-treating and dump all of our candy out so Mom could inspect it before we were allowed to eat any of it. Sometimes we'd leave the candy in the bags we carried all night. Other years we'd dump it into bowls or plastic containers.

Cassie and I would trade a few pieces, but she never wanted me anywhere near the rest of her candy. She always acted like she didn't trust me. Personally, I thought that was hurtful. I was basically her best friend. She'd tell you I wasn't, but I knew better.

The thing is, I loved candy. Cassie... didn't seem to. It would take her months to finish her Halloween candy. The same thing happened with Christmas stockings and Easter baskets. Meanwhile, my candy was usually gone within a few days.

I tried to be a good sister and help her with this obvious problem. For some reason, she never appreciated my generosity.

A few weeks after Halloween, I was looking for some paper to draw on when I found a big bowl of her candy sitting on top of a file cabinet in a closet. She wasn't hiding it from me. Why would she? She trusted me.

I took one piece. Maybe two.

She didn't notice.

So a few days later, I took another. Then another.

This wasn't a smash-and-grab. It was a long-term operation.

It took Cassie weeks to realize her candy supply was mysteriously shrinking. She wasn't even mad about most of it. She was mad because I'd eaten her full-size 3 Musketeers.

I don't actually remember eating the 3 Musketeers, but by then the candy supply was getting pretty low, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

Eventually I admitted what I'd done. I remember crying while trying to apologize.

"I'm sorry I ate your candy. But you weren't even eating it. You didn't even know! I'll buy you another one. When Dad picks us up, I'll buy you another candy bar."

And I did.

She got a replacement 3 Musketeers.

That should have been the end of the story.

It wasn't.

Because she left that one sitting around so long...

...I ate that one too.

Over the years I've bought her more replacement 3 Musketeers bars than I can count. She still acts like I owe her.

We were kids back then. We're adults now.

Sometime in our twenties, she casually admitted she doesn't even like 3 Musketeers.

I just stared at her.

"You don't even like them?"

"No."

Neither do I. I don't even like nougat. I never have.

So for more than thirty years we've been arguing over a candy bar that neither one of us actually wanted.

Honestly, I think she's been looking at this all wrong.

Halloween chocolate sits around for months. Who knows what could have happened? She shouldn't have been eating old chocolate anyway.

I pretty much saved her life.

She still hasn't said, "Thank you."

So, Cassie...

If you're reading this...

You're welcome.

Does your family have one ridiculously small argument that has somehow survived for decades? I'd love to hear it. Sometimes those are the stories that never stop being funny.