Chocolates and full moons

Three nights went by, with the moon getting bigger, fatter and rounder each night, as i drove past the hills and the buildings on my way home; and so i checked the local weather online and to my disappointment, it did not have the moon phase schedule on any of its link.

In the summers of my youth, and i felt that that was not too long ago, i would look at our kitchen calendar and mark the days leading to and after the full moon because it usually coincides with the low tide, those lazy days when the river is ideal for easy fishing but too shallow for a nice swim.

I must be too young then to also regard the superstition behind a full moon, how it somehow drives the wickedness or some may say the playfulness of what constitutes normalcy in the acts of men.

The story begins with the boss selling a box of chocolate in the office and using the name of her subordinate's kids as the charitable recipient. What is assumed is that there is an implied consent between the two but what is not confirmed is that this subordinate willingly permits the whole using-my-kid's name-to-sell- a-candybar-set-up, this discomfort expressed with the three emails the latter send to the boss herself. Three days and three emails, without any reply nor action, later, the whole office receive a mass email clarifying the chocolate incident, and i thought - oh how embarassingly sweet in a full moon night.