Granny's Fudge

Personally, I have never been a big fan of children in general. They have always seemed like a nuisance. Yes, they’re cute as babies but after all of that cuteness, I lose my patience. All I needed was one daughter for me to learn that. I love my daughter, but after her, I swore I’d never have another child again. It’s simply too much for me. My daughter, Larissa, is now 32 years old with two children of her own. They are fraternal twins, Mason and Monica. Not until a couple of months ago did I meet them. They are twelve years old devils. They are the reason I will be sitting in this jail cell for the next five years.

Larissa called me asking if I could watch over the twins for a week, as she had a business trip to attend with her husband. I was hesitant of course, but since I haven’t seen them in so long I decided that I could handle one week. Besides, the last time I saw them they were babies. How crazy could two preteens be, right?

As soon as I got the call, I started setting up my home because they would be arriving in two days. Part of me was excited to show off my home to them, as I’ve worked very hard on it. In my town, I’m known as Granny Sweet, the reason being exactly what it sounds like. I’m very big on making homemade sweets of all kinds; candy, ice cream, cookies, brownies, fudge, you name it. I have the biggest sweet tooth in town. I’ve turned my nickname into a brand and sell my goods to locals in town. I even get orders every now and then from people out of the state! It’s something I’m very proud of and hope to bond with the twins with.

Two days passed and my daughter would be arriving with the kids any minute. There were sweets set up all over the kitchen as if it were a bake sale. That was my attempt at being the stereotypical grandmother that spoils their grandkids. Obviously I wasn’t going to feed them sweets for an entire week, but I had to warm up to them somehow. That was my first mistake. When they arrived, I was surprised to see how big they were. Monica was about 5’0 and had long brown hair to compliment her green eyes. Mason and Monica both had my daughter’s green eyes. Mason was an inch shorter than his sister and had long brown shaggy hair. They were both very well mannered and respectful, or so I thought.

The first three days of their stay were normal. Their favorite parts of the day were snack time and dessert time after dinner, as expected. They went to bed around eleven and sometimes midnight because of the amount of sugar they consumed. That was my fault, but in my defense, I was just trying to get them to like me! It wasn’t until the fourth day that it began to get weird. It was one in the morning and I was finishing up baking some fudge so I could ship them the next day. I don’t do that regularly, but a customer put the order in late and hoped for it as soon as possible.

I went to pack the fudge in a container and realized that I only had half of what I made. I checked in the fridge to see if anything fell off of the plate and there was nothing. I sat there for a while wondering if I didn’t make as much as I thought I did or if I accidentally threw some away while cleaning up. A couple minutes later I heard footsteps in the living room. Long story short, it was Mason that took the fudge. Too tired to yell, I told him to go back to sleep. Guilty, he nodded and began to go upstairs, but then he came back down to ask for more fudge. I was confused and even more irritated at this point, so I yelled at him to head to his room. I expected him to simply give up and go upstairs, but he hissed at me and threw a stool at the wall. Grabbing his arm, I brought him up to his room and shut the door. Before I went to bed, I remade the fudge that Mason so selfishly took and then called Larissa to inform  her of Mason’s actions. She assured me that he gets grumpy and it was nothing out of the ordinary. Oh, joy.

The next morning, when I went downstairs to make breakfast, I found Monica raiding the fridge. I tried as hard as I could to keep my composure until I realized what was in her hands and all over her face. Fudge. It was the container of fudge that I had to take to the post office and send out to a customer. Furious was an understatement. I couldn’t stop myself from slipping out a couple swears, but could you blame me?! Who did these think they were?! I dragged her to her room as she threw a fit about being hungry just as Mason did the night before. After locking both of their doors, I called Larissa again. She was still so sure that it was normal behavior Exasperated, I told her, “One more strike and they are out of here.” She assured me they would behave for the next two days. Not convinced, I told her not to be surprised if she had to cut her business trip short.

Surprisingly, we got through the rest of the fifth day smoothly. I brought them macaroni and cheese to their rooms for lunch, and for dinner, we ate Chinese takeout together in the kitchen. They sincerely apologized for their behavior and asked for my forgiveness. I accepted their apologies. That night, I taught them how to make their own fudge at home. Big mistake.

The majority of the sixth day was like any other. We went out to the park, we went shopping, then we went home for dinner. It wasn’t until night time that disaster struck. Around 11pm, I woke up to the fire alarm going off. I ran into the kids’ rooms to check on them but they were not there. Dark gray smoke was coming from the staircase. I sprinted down to the kitchen and found the kids screaming and standing on the dining table. The oven was completely immersed in flames. It was clear that they were attempting to make their own fudge, but this was the last straw. I know I should’ve gotten all three of us out of the house right away, but I was so infuriated that I couldn't help but scream at the twins right then and there. Another mistake. Monica and Mason jumped off of the table and attacked me, pushing me towards the flames. I fought back, but their strength combined was almost too much for my elderly bones. Nonetheless, I refused to give in to two prepubescent children. Granny Sweet was not going down without a fight! They screamed at one another to get me into the stove. Mason’s grip loosened for a second and I automatically broke free, grabbed a pot off of the stove, and knocked out the both of them.

We all made it out alive, however I had to face all of the consequences due to them being minors. I was charged for attempted murder. This was not surprising because of course the police officers believed the two bruised children that swore they were only trying to make fudge over the creepy grandma that is known to dislike children. For once, I just wanted to spend quality time with my grandchildren like any other grandma would want! I guess this is what I get for just trying to be a typical grandma. God, I hate kids.