The Holiday Chocolate Battle

Living in the same town as my sister, Shari has its share of benefits. Occasionally Kim and I can go out for the evening and we have a babysitter that my kids love and whom we trust. If we ever go out of town without her, she can watch the dog. When we need to get our teeth cleaned, she is one hell of a hygenist and we get deep, deep discounts.
On the flip side is dealing with Shari herself. Take yesterday, for example, as Kim was finishing up the last few batches of Christmas Chocolate that we like to send out for holiday cheer--some of you out there might be receiving a sampling soon--check your mailbox. Here is how it works--we tried to track down as many tins as we could, but they were hard to find, so we purchased some holiday mugs and pails. When we couldn't find any more of these, we purchased decorative paper boxes in two sizes, so there ended up being five or six different sizes for the chocolates. Kim made 32 1/2 pounds of chocolates (only two pounds of which were consumed by Abby our yellow lab--approximately 1 3/4 of those pounds were regurgitated onto our carpet and back yard, but I digress), and we filled 67 packages of these various sizes for family, friends, work associates, etc.
To be completely fair, Shari helped out a great deal. She was an active participant in the chocolate factory that overtook my house for the past 72 hours. Now realize that any of these packages is going to be a welcome holiday tiding. They look great, there is a large assortment of delicious milk and dark chocolate confections, there are various shapes and sizes of chocolates for everybody on our lists. But Shari lives in her world and the rest of us are just active participants who fill the void during the quiet times. Because she helped make the chocolates, everybody on her side of the ledger needed to get one of the large tins or one of the ceramic mugs/pails. There was no way that she could possibly give a paper box to the receptionist at work or the neighbor, whose name escapes her, but she waves when their Blue Explorer goes by once in a while. The neighbors from her previous address, whom I have heard her mention twice in three years need to get one of the large tins, as do any of her friends with whom she has maintained contact over the past 34 years.
But the thing that really fires me up is the way Shari likes to play Santa and Kim gets to be her favorite elf. As I was walking out the door last night to pick up dinner for Kim and the kids, I heard Shari asking Kim to ship her packages when she went to the post office to ship our stuff. Look, nobody freaking likes to go to the post office in December--it is about as productive a use of one's time as watching a Joanie Loves Chachi marathon (which by the way was one of the most underrated shows of all time, and if those boneheads at ABC ever figured that out, CBS would be scrambling to find a CSI, Des Moines to counter the ratings slide--never mind, another time, another posting). But let's look at the ledger.

• Kim went out and bought all the chocolate (a 45 minute jaunt each way into downtown Phoenix).
• Kim took trips to 5 different places to find enough tins, boxes, mugs and pails for the vessels.
• Kim has paid for everthing that has been used except for about $25 worth of wrap and butter.
• Kim produced about 75% of the finished product.

Now, Shari wants Kim to go stand in line for an hour and a half with a screaming 3 year old, so that she can have the opportunity to pay to ship "Shari's candy trunks" to the random people on her list, while we send our own thimbles full of chocolate to the rest of you. The reasoning is that she is just exhausted after spending two of her three days off this week making chocolate molds, and since we have to go anyway, we should relish the opportunity to send her stuff too.

I am thrilled to say that my wife did not succumb as she usually does. Currently, there are no plans for us to ship Shari's chocolates, which might mean there will be several tins left on the counter in Shari's kitchen until next Christmas. Whether or not we ever see the money for her share of the product is another argument for another day. But if we take the labor that Shari should charge us for helping make the chocolates, maybe we are getting off easy and should just count our blessings.
To be perfectly honest, it isn't a big deal. Like I said before, all of the boxes look great and if I received one in the mail, I would be thrilled. It is just a microcosm of the nature of my sister. There is a sense of entitlement and a need to validate herself to others at all times. Perhaps someday it will change, but I doubt it. Just keep your eyes open for your decorative paper box--the tins are on their way to Shari's third grade school nurse.
Josh