As you might imagine, our trusted narrator Judy wasn’t about to rush her Christmas prank. She wasn’t about to give herself up by offering her dad a Ferrero, or act all desperate in front of him. No, she handled the situation the way all of the most savage pranksters do: with total aplomb.
“Last night he viewed them with suspicion when they came out the bag,” she wrote on Christmas Eve. If my kid had ever changed my delicious hazelnut-milk chocolate for a RAW brussel sprout, they’d have another thing coming. In fact, just the thought is making me nauseous. But, the dad thought, Judy had been “out all day,” how could she POSSIBLY “have tampered with them?”
Dad was not in the mood to take any chances that evening, and the candies “sat in the kitchen all night.” The next morning, on Christmas day, when the magical spirit of Santa was giving dad something of a sweet tooth, he “eyed the box” once again.
“He quite likes a post-brekkie Ferrero. He approached. I hovered in the kitchen, careful not to spook him,” Judy writes. “And Lo! He opened. He EXAMINED. He unwrapped. He examined FURTHER. Fears allayed, he popped the whole thing in his mouth. His face played a symphony of emotions: satisfaction, triumph, smugness, consternation, confusion, realization, horror, disgust.”