She knows it'll never end: the torture. The complete agony that no child of seven should ever have to endure. The physical yearning that makes even the most devout believers doubtful. And at Christmas, no less! She tried to get her mind off it by walking their teacup terrier. But all she could think was that it was cold outside and she knew of something that would comfort her the minute she walked back in the door. She tried a bath, but she felt like a sweet little something was missing. She even tried cleaning her room but all she could think of was that the only incentive that could make it worth her while was forbidden.

"Don't even think about it, little girl. I can see you eyeing that candy bowl. You think I'm blind? That's for company, not for little girls who get too much candy as it is."

Standing there in her green and red flannel Christmas dress that she would wear to church if she went to church, she turned from her mother back to the crystal clear, gilded, glimmering bowl full of Christmas-colored after dinner mints.

She didn't even pretend to plead her case with her mother. She knew she wasn't allowed to have any more mints after she finished the last two bags her mother bought two days ago for the various company they have during the Christmas holidays.

Seeing her daughter's obvious internal struggle, the mother spoke to her child sympathetically, "It'll help if you don't stand there staring at it, ya know."

But the little girl knew better, she had tried. There was no point in trying to reason with her. Her mother would never understand that when most people need air, she needed sugar. When most longed for a Romeo, she longed for a Romeo who was old enough to drive to the store and buy her a snickers bar, or rollos, or M&M's. There are always so many options at the grocery store.

She neither loved nor feared anything more than aisle 12 at her local Kroger: the candy aisle. It was the best aisle that store had. It changed for the holidays but still always had all the old favorites. It was 20 yards of solutions to every problem she could ever have. It was the first drug she to which she would form an addiction.

"Don't you remember the last few Halloweens?  You have eaten everything in your bag Halloween night then felt sick for the next two days the last two years running.  I'm sure you don't want that to happen again."  Her mother always brings up this story to prove her tendency to go 'overboard' with candy.  It never helps.  It just upsets her because technically the story is false. 

"Mom, I have never eaten all of my candy.  I usually leave out the little bits of candy that really aren't that good to trade with kids during lunch.  You know, the little strangely flavored tootsie rolls that some of the neighbors get because they are being too cheap to get chocolate?"

"Oh, yes, I forgot.  I have the only child in existence who puts a hierarchy on candy.  My little candy racist."  her mother cooed condescendingly. 

"You know what, mom!  If you care so much about my problem, why do we have candy in the house at all?  It's not fair!"  the little girl pouted and ran off to her room, slamming the door.

"That," said the mother to herself, "is a damned good question," as she took a generous handful of the Christmas-colored after dinner mints and shoved them into her mouth.

To see more responses to Prompt #131 FORBIDDEN go to Sunday Scribbles http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/