It served me right

Let me preface this by stating in my own defense that I'm not entirely proud of this story, and I don't do this sort of thing often. Not that I remember, or will admit too, anyhow.

Today, I was on my way to pick up my ballerinas from class, and had occasion to stop at Publix to pick up some bits for dinner. I was on my way to the checkout when my side-scanning snack-detecting radar spotted an end-cap full of Lays chips, of new and varying flavors.

Again, in my own defense, I feel obligated to point out that I had not had lunch, and my hunger was great, but my will-power was in indirect proportion, and my attention was drawn to a new (to me, anyway) flavor, the deliciously-named Sharp Cheddar Kettle chips.

Accordingly, I snatched up a large packet, and was eating them before I even got back to the car. They were every bit as yummy as I expected, and I determined to eat as many as I could before I got to the ballet school.

This is the part of the story that I'm not entirely proud of.

These chippies were so good that I planned to obfuscate their existence, and retrieve them after everyone had gone to bed, and then to enjoy all by myself, over a cup of tea. Or some other beverage.

The ballet school is perilously close to Publix, and kettle chips are hard to scoff, so I'd only managed to consume a small quantity before I pulled up to the school, and had to stuff them under the front seat, as my three ballerinas rushed the car.

They piled through the door with cries of "I'm hungry", and I'm _starving_!"

"We'll be home soon, and you can have a sandwich." said I, slyly.

"I smell CHIPS!", said Alexis, who apparently has a very good nose.

I caught my breath.

"I SEE CHIPS!!!", said Alexis, whose nose was indeed _very_ good, and had led her to my hiding place.

"I WANT SOME!!!!!", shrieked the two ballerinas in the back seat in unison.

I must say they were most un-ladylike, and their behavior was completely unbecoming of their appearance as delicate ballerinas.

The rest of the ride home was in silence, except for loud chewing and crunching noises.

Needless to say, my plan for a tasty late night snack vanished along with the chips.

The moral of the story is "Don't mess with hungry ballerinas. They may look like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths, but they are fierce."