Official Cease and Desist Order from The Household

Offending Citizen: Sam G, 1 y.o. male.


Order: To cease and desist all consumption of dark chocolate. Immediately.


Preceding Incident: Allegedly consumed homemade dark chocolate cupcakes for first birthday.


Precursory Complaints


Complainant: Erin/Tighe

Grievance: “First, he was a mess. He resembled Blackbeard the Pirate or a black face cinema actor of the 1920’s. We feared that his clothing would be forever stained (it is not). Second, we underestimated the effect caffeine and sugar would have on his little body. Frankly, it was disturbing. He seemed to be having hallucinations: staring at something moving above him with great concentration and swatting at it. We could see nothing. He alternated this behavior with violent head-banging. To no music. Although, actually, we don’t believe that the screeching accompaniment was dark-chocolate induced. That seems to be a daily occurrence in the evenings. Every dinner — screeching.”


Complainant: Wally, 6 1/2 y.o. Golden Doodle male. 

Grievance: “Just let me die in peace. There’s dark chocolate in my fur. I’d eat it myself, but it pains me to reach that far.”


Complainant: High Chair

Grievance: “We high chairs see a lot of bad table manners and very poorly raised children — it’s all part of the profession — but I have NEVER, and I mean NEVER, seen anything close to the mayhem and the wreckage I saw that night. Those parents have no control. No discipline! They actually laughed — laughed, I said! — while pandemonium befell that dining room, that once sacred and revered space. I-I-I….I’m just speechless. Please. No more questions. I just want to move on with my life.”  


Complainant: Vacuum Cleaner

Grievance: “Man, I’ve never worked so hard in my life! I swear if I don’t get overtime pay or at least a day or two off, I’ll quit on these people! I’ll walk right out that door. I gotta get a hold of my union rep cuz I could really, really use some new bags, too. This one is filled with cupcake crumbs and dog hair!”


Complainant: Dining Room Carpet

Grievance: “I get no respect! First they embed crumbs and icing into me. Then, they run me over with Vacuum Cleaner! We lost a lot of good Paper Towels and Napkins that night! Those bastards never saw it coming, never knew what happened! Just — wham! And that Dish Towel…he hasn’t uttered two words since that night. Just — just a blank, vacant stare. It was rough. Really rough.”


Character Witness: Household Mice

Testimony: “These cupcakes are terrific! So is this kid. Incredibly generous with all his meals, particularly ground beef, pork tenderloin, and those little sausage muffins. If we’re being honest, winter is a tough time for us — typically we like to head South to a warmer climate, but this little guy made it tough to leave this year. He always makes sure we have a nice square meal three times a day. That dining room floor is a gold mine, AND he’s been leaving cheerios under his crib. Did I mention his bedroom is the warmest in the house? This has been the best winter of our lives!”


Judgment: Guilty. Immediate cessation of dark chocolate consumption with a ban on milk chocolate for at least one year. 

Provisional Warning: Baby must tart walking immediately so that no one has to carry his little ass around anymore. It’s getting old. So is his mom. 

Author’s Note: I know, we did this to ourselves. Rookie mistake. Don’t even get me started on Nate’s circumstances on that apocalyptic night. Slightly less messy, but equally high. Ok, I gotta go make amends with the Vacuum Cleaner — we really can’t afford to lose him.