Confessions

I am a woman with secrets. Not the kind of secrets that get you locked up somewhere or disowned, but things that no one knows. I'm not sure why I'm telling now, and I'm pretty sure I shouldn't because it will ruin my chances of achieving a childhood dream. Actually, I'm still holding on to a tiny bit of hope that it could happen...but this is likely to destroy any chance I have to become a spy or an undercover FBI agent.

But here they are--my secrets laid bare.

I eat cookies for breakfast sometimes. Actually, I do it a lot. Not on school days--too many people in our kitchen on those days. Unless I don't eat until I get to school. I have secret cookies there (some of you know that from an earlier post). But on weekends and vacations...  I can get the cookies out without anyone hearing. It helps that I make coffee every morning. The sound of running water covers the sound of my sin, and once I'm settled on the sofa, my book hides the pile of cookies from prying eyes.

When the toothpaste is new, I squeeze in the middle. Maybe that's not a problem in your world, but I am basically a rule-follower and also a person who hates it when people squeeze the middle of the tube. But when it's new....I can't resist. I pick up that big, fat tube and squeeze a big blob onto my toothbrush. Then I lay the toothbrush down, replace the lid on the toothpaste, and carefully squeeze up from the bottom so that all evidence of my little indulgence is erased.

I am afraid to light the gas grill. Oh, I do it. But it scares me. It did when the starter worked and it does even more now that we usually have to use a match to light it. Every time I stand there in front of the grill, ready to light it, I cannot help but think that this is the time that it's going to blow. I imagine a huge fire-ball and a blazing inferno. Even worse is that I still think this even when my son goes out to light the grill...and I let him do it anyway.

And the ice cream (deep breath--I cannot believe I am about to reveal one of my deepest, darkest secrets). Once I ate a whole half gallon of ice cream by myself. In a day and a half. It was after the kids were in bed and Husband was in the basement playing video games, so no one was witness to my shame. Even I cannot believe the lengths I went to in order to make sure no one found out. I made a quick trip to the store the next day, smuggled a new container of ice cream into the house and quickly ate just one bowl of it so that everyone would think I had only had a normal amount. After that first time, it was so easy to do it again--yes, I have done this more than once.

I like to think that having secrets give me a mysterious air--that something unnameable that people sense when they meet me. That feeling that there is more to me than meets the eye. Only now you know. Just don't tell the CIA or FBI. I would make a great spy.