I don't share.

I despise the word "MINE". I preach sharing with the fever of a evangelical bible thumper. Of course this is only within the context of my own children. I personally don't share. Most everything in my house is MINE.

I write about this issue today in this most glorious new year of 2010 because I wonder if I should feel more guilty. For instance, just this morning in an empty house (as it should be) I recovered my stash in the nether regions of my freezer, popped them into the toaster and five minutes later sat down and delightedly crunched into buttery hot cinnamon bread toast.

Not one of the 5 other humans living in the house know I buy Cinnabon Cinnamon Toast bread and hide it in my freezer (see the word MINE again). Why should they, it's MINE. I don't want them to know because then I will have to SHARE. I don't share.

As I type my olfactory senses are loving up the remaining toasty smell of my secret. Such decadence and it's all MINE. I suppose I do not feel guilty after all, what else does a mom have (besides coffee, which is also MINE btw)?

So I say hide your favorite things, food, whatever; don't share and enjoy what is YOURS only. We spend 90% of our time preaching to our children, take a break, rip off that cassock and turn the setting up on the toaster my friends.

Happy New Year.