One of the biggest benefits of being married to a dentist (besides free dental care, a lifetime supply of floss, and access to laughing gas, should the need arise) is the abundance of chocolate, which arrives almost daily this time of year.
Ironic, don't you think? Like sending poutine to a cardiac surgeon. (Ummm, poutine. Oh, man, I should have married a cardiologist...)
Not only do his patients come bearing glad tidings and sweet gifts when they come for their December appointments, but most of the specialists he refers to regularly also send nice little packages tied up with string. Or ribbon, like this one.
So of course, being the kind, thoughtful man that he is, he brings a lot of this home to his wife and children, who, after they stand back and admire the lovely packaging, leap on it, and each other, like hyenas on an injured gazelle.
This is what happens to families on a sugar high. This would never have happened if we had eaten salad, or a nice piece of broccoli. (Okay, that's not exactly true. These truffles practically begged to be abused in this manner.)