My uncle sent us a lovely, incredibly generous gift basket for Christmas. It’s chock-full of reasons for me to avoid cooking until 2020!
As if it were a competitive sport, DMc called “dibs” on the Toblerone bar before I even had the package fully out of its shipping box. After giving him a “Dude. Really?” side-eye, I agreed that he could claim the Toblerone, under the condition that I got to call “dibs” on one item, and then we would share everything else.
If you’ve met me, you might wonder at how easily I gave up the coveted Toblerone. You might assume it was because I’d seen the Godiva chocolate cashews right up front. If you know me quite well, you might suspect that I possessed intel DMc didn’t, and that I planned to leverage it. If so, the suspicion was valid.
Unloading these things is like unpacking a tetris game of high-end snacks. DMc has no patience for it, so wanders in and out of the kitchen while I organize the goodies. This means that he hasn’t noticed the pattern that I have, as I am hands-on for the whole shebang. Here’s the secret: In this level of gift basket (deluxe noms), there are *multiple* offerings from Godiva and Ghirardelli included. The best and biggest ones are often buried in the middle.
Which is how my patience scored me the bag of Godiva dark chocolate covered pretzels. Yesssssss!
Today’s lesson: if feasible, don’t assume what you see at first glance is necessarily the best thing on offer. Be patient, poke around a little, pay attention. Then, when you see a hidden treasure, make your move quickly and with surgical precision.
This philosophy is useful for ever so much more than festive snack acquisition.