Candies, and the Strangers who eat them

Sometimes after lunch I like to treat myself to a bag of candy from the store near my office. To some extent I just have a sweet tooth, but it's really the sugar that helps me get through the rest of the day. I had just finished my after-lunch snack today when my Project Manager seated his son next to me in a vacant desk. He was a cute enough kid, probably 5 or 6 years old, but I couldn't help but be glad that I had just eaten my candy before he sat down -- otherwise I may have been forced to share.

Then, appalled at my own selfishness, I thought, could I really be so insincere and selfish as to be glad that I didn't have to offer candy to a child? I took a moment, savoring the combination of sour and sweet, sugary delight still dancing on my taste buds, as I began to pontificate over my conundrum of a conscience. Yes . . . yes, I could. Besides, I'm a stranger -- he shouldn't be taking candy from me anyway. In the end, I was satisfied at having been able to teach this child one of the many important lessons of childhood.