In Hiding
John Norberg, humor columnist s

Mysterious things sometimes happen in homes. Sometimes in the middle of the night there are strange sounds.

My wife wakes up in the middle of the night and hears strange noises. But it never bothers her. She knows exactly what it is.

Itís me raiding the refrigerator.

This is perfectly natural. If refrigerators werenít supposed to be raided in the middle of the night they wouldnít have light bulbs in them.

I do admit we have to change the light bulb in our refrigerator fairly often.

But never more than twice a week.

I have a weakness for any kind of food that Iím not supposed to eat. And the other day I found a new one.

Wife: "Try one of these. Theyíre chocolate covered pomegranates."

To be honest I donít have the slightest idea what pomegranates are. Iíve read about them in the Bible.

But Iíve personally never gone to a restaurant and ordered pomegranates.

Still, I was willing to try eating anything my wife offered, especially if it was chocolate covered.

I ate one of her chocolate covered pomegranates.

Wife: "Well, what do think?"

Me: "Iím not sure. Iím going to need another taste."

She handed me the bag, I reached in, pulled out a huge handful and stuffed them all in my mouth before she could stop me.

Wife: "What are you doing? Youíre supposed to eat one of these at a time."

Me: "One bag at a time?"

Wife: "One chocolate covered pomegranate at a time."

Me: "I canít just eat one of these at a time. Theyíre too good. And theyíre Biblical. If God had wanted us to just eat one chocolate covered pomegranate at a time he wouldnít have made them taste so good."

Wife: "Don1t eat them all. These are for when we have guests."

She put them in a kitchen cabinet. I promised her I would not eat them.

That night I woke up at 2 a.m. with an uncontrollable taste for chocolate covered pomegranates. I lay in bed. I could smell them and taste them.

I thought about my promise to my wife. I considered the consequences of eating them anyway. I quietly tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen.

I knew I was going to be in trouble if I polished off that bag. There are consequences to our actions. But chocolate covered pomegranates are worth the consequences.

I got to the kitchen, opened the cabinet where she had placed the chocolate covered pomegranates. And they were gone.

Had my wife eaten them? Had someone broken into our house and stolen our chocolate covered pomegranates? No. I understood exactly what had happened.

My wife knew I was going to do this and she moved the bag to a different cabinet to hide them from me.

I went through all the cabinets. I looked behind stacks of plates and rows of glasses and cups. I took everything out of the pantry and searched through it. I looked under the sink and in the refrigerator. I extended my search to cabinets in the laundry room.

Finally I looked in the one cabinet my wife knows I never open.

The one with the cleaning supplies. And there was the bag of chocolate covered pomegranates.

I ate about half the bag and snuck back into bed.

The next night at 2 a.m. I woke up with the craving again. I went to the cleaning supply cabinet. The chocolate covered pomegranates were missing. I searched all night. I found nothing but the triple AAA batteries I was trying to find earlier in the week.

I got up the next morning exhausted.

Wife: "Are you sleeping okay? You donít look well."

Me: "Iíve got a lot on mind."

Wife: "Youíre never going to find them."

Me: "Theyíre with the vacuum cleaner, arenít they."

Wife: "No. Youíll never find them. There are hundreds of places for me to hide things in this house Ė places you donít even know about. Give it up."

Sheís right. But I donít give up easy when it comes to searching for hidden chocolate covered pomegranates.

I ran into an old friend recently. "What are you doing with all your free time now in retirement?" he said.

Me: "Iím searching the house for my wifeís hidden bag of chocolate covered pomegranates."

Interestingly, he didnít look surprised

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