Greed Comes in One Flavor
What’s mine is yours. What’s yours is mine. I will share my life, my love, home, cars, and money. I will be exactly what you need when you need it. Except when dealing with chocolate. The chocolate is mine and mine alone.
Teaching our children to share is the status quo. It is a primary lesson in the “All I need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten,” tactic. Mom comes home from the Grocer and as she’s putting stuff away you see she bought your favorite after school snack. She truly loves you. And then the dreaded words enter your head. You don’t have to see her or hear her voice. It plays in your mind without her saying a word. Unless it has your name on it, it’s for everyone. You’ve tried the name in Sharpie before and that resulted in mom giving the snacks to your little sister.
When you pulled that empty box from the cupboard the dismay was tangible. It was a learning lesson. One you’ve taken with you into adulthood.
College went by with the same result. The dorm-mate and all the acquaintances knew where the good stuff was and you often had a repeat of the empty box at two in the morning.
Now that you have your home and your space, the things in it should remain yours. The significant other thinks otherwise. Once again you find yourself baffled that your mid-night snack is missing. Kindergarten and sharing no longer seems to matter. Greed is not what you wish to instill. The chocolate, though. That one sweet indulgence is coveted. It is yours and because of that Greed has a flavor, chocolate.
For Dave Williams making a stance on what was his called for extreme measures. His fiance, Stacey, had a problem. One that directly affected him and his late night randevu in the kitchen. You think you can trust someone, then you discover the truth. Dave’s fiance, was a kleptomaniac and what she was stealing was his chocolate.
To give Stacey some credit here, let’s reiterate the sharing aspect we were taught early in life. The are healing aspects in chocolate. As a woman we are deigned to have a special relationship with the treat. Sad, menstrual woes, heart ache, all can be healed with the power of chocolate. Men should know this. Threaten to cut off a woman’s chocolate supply and you might as well castrate yourself (figure of speech and no way promoting Death by Chocolate.)
Imagine Stacey’s surprise when Dave went to extreme measure for his love of chocolate.
Meat, cheese, yogurt. All easily accessible. But the chocolate was locked away. Literally. Dave had installed a safe in their refrigerator and that safe held the chocolate. The clear box taunted her as it protected what Stacey wanted. Dave had just declared war. Something like this is grounds for break-up.
In a fit of frustration, Stacey posted about Dave’s audacity on Facebook. Hinting that ‘two can play that game.’ The post went viral. Yet, Stacey admits that installing her own safe would encourage Dave. After all, they’d both have their own supply and the safes would be a moot point.
If it were me. I’d buy some heavy duty chain and a sturdy pad-lock. What good does a safe do if you can’t open the fridge it’s contained in? Turnabouts fair play. I bet Dave would learn a lesson in sharing then.