Growing up, my older sister and I shared a room. One year, when she was in high school and I was in middle school, her boyfriend gave her a box of chocolates for Valentine's Day. Knowing my penchant for going through and using her things, she hid it under her mattress.
While my sister was working, I did my usual poking around and discovered the chocolates. I picked through them, eating ones I liked and replacing the ones I didn't, such as the truffles. Then I put the box back and didn't think about it again.
A few days later, my sister discovered that some chocolates were missing, while others bore telltale tooth marks. She tracked me down, dragged me into the bedroom and questioned me about going through her things. I finally admitted my crime. Rather than tell my parents, she took matters into her own hands: As she didn't like truffles, either, she held me down and forced me to eat all six left in the box, including the two I had returned.
It was a very effective punishment. Not only did it curb my desire to root through my sister's things, but I have yet to develop a taste for chocolate truffles.
Gloria Dunlap, Winston-Salem, N.C.
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