Every Christmas my Wisconsin sister-in-law makes turtles. These are tasty treats consisting of pecans, caramel, and chocolate. When Suzanne and John were small, they looked forward to the package of turtles that arrived every year at our house. Now that they have their own houses and their own children, they are so grateful that their aunt seems willing to add to her annual workload by sending turtles to their houses — and the houses of all her nieces and nephews — as well as the past recipients, her siblings, her mother, and her in-laws.
Every once in a while, she ponders whether she should keep making them. She wonders if people still like them (!). That is, until last year’s Great Turtle Caper.
That was the year that several nieces and nephews whispered among themselves, “Did you get the feeling that the turtle packages had been tampered with this year?” The whispers gradually built to a roar, and my brother Bo was called in to investigate, a supposedly impartial observer. A quorum of family members happening to be together, he turned his gimlet eye upon them. We need to get to the bottom of this, he said, amid much irreverent laughter.
Could a bent postman have gotten wind of the Wisconsin turtles’ fame and decided to taste one, then two, then three? (They’re a little addictive.) Could someone have filched a few before the packages went to the post office? A very small child perhaps?
The pressure grew. Suddenly, the true culprit confessed. I won’t name him other than to say it was a grown man, a close relative of the candy maker. Exposed and contrite, he vowed in the presence of witnesses never again to take unfair advantage of his access and deprive his cousins.
That is how Aunt Deb learned that her turtles are still in demand. And in case the rabid fan base isn’t enough to convince her of the high value the family places on her turtles, John snapped a photo in local market to convey what turtles would cost us if we were forced to buy them.
Suzanne's Mom's Blog 