An Unabridged List of my Robberies

A while back I asked my mother why my father ate tasteless frozen blueberries for breakfast while we sat at my kitchen table eating said tasteless blue balls of ice. “I didn’t think you bought frozen fruits” she answered. “I don’t” I replied, “I stole them out of Dad’s freezer”.

“Does you father know you’re doing this?” she probed. “No” and “I’m not going to tell him. Well I won’t tell him until I’m unable to steal anymore.

Given that I’m moving a plane ride away from my family, it will no long be possible to pillage my father’s pantry and freezer. Thus I am confessing all of my stolen sins in one go. Online. It’s like Confession only I’m not Catholic so I need you all to absolve me.

A Review All of the Delicious and Quasi Delicious Edibles I Stole Shamelessly From My Dad’s Cupboards

(Because to Take Them and List Them Is Not Enough- I had to Share my Enjoyment or Displeasure)

Half a bag of soup mix– I didn’t check the expiry date on this one. I figured it was in both of our best interests. I found it bland; I’m hoping that was due to a lack of spices and not age.

One of two cloth bags full of scone mix– Sir, you don’t bake. Why keep one bag of scone mix let alone two? I’m considering this petty theft to be a favor; I freed up space in your cupboard. You’re welcome.

A box of Kashi cereal– We both know I eat steel cut oats for breakfast because I enjoy standing over pots for an hour in the morning hissing “Cook dammit” at my food, so this item was an altruistic steal for my former roommate Meredith. According to the rules of Stolen Food Karma Logic my guilt and any wrong doing in cancelled out my roommates enjoyment of said cereal.

Seven Vanilla Girl Guide Cookies– I left all of the chocolate. I’ll admit, it was a dick move.

The second bag of scone mix– What can I say? They were delicious. I had intended on leaving one but after I baked up the first batch and devoured them in one sitting, the temptation when I spotted them in the cupboard during my next visit was too great.

Brownie Wafers– This was a bizarre snack food. That’s all I will say.

Five bottles of Maple Syrup of varying sizes – In my defense one of those was a really small bottle, practically not even robbery. Also I did this over a period of a year and a half, otherwise I’d have diabetes right now from consuming all that in one go.

A bag of brown sugar– Again, sir you don’t cook! I would have left it if you put on your oatmeal but as it was I enjoyed it on mine. I also served some to you when you visited. The sweetened bowl of breakfast food was deemed “delicious”.

A Ziploc Container Three Quarters Filled With Wild Rice– This grain is unreasonably expensive, also I remember decanting it into the ziploc container well over a decade ago, again you’re welcome.

Three boxes of pre-seasoned couscous– Delectable. I can see why you enjoy them and keep multiple boxes on hand. Would steal again.

Two jars of medium hot salsa– Much like with the couscous and the maple syrup, when there are multiples of one item, it invites looting.


So dear readers, am I absolved? Or a petty thief? Or even worse, a petty thief with questionable tastes?

I Stole a Bike, So the Police Called My Mom

Not my actual Mom thankfully, the police telephoned Tasia* the mother of the family I’m staying with. Had the police telephoned my real mother in Ontario, she would have told them to keep me in jail for a couple of nights then refused to pay my bail. My mother believes in natural consequences and doing hard time.

Getting back to my story, in the small Quebecois town where I’m currently living, the preferred method of transportation is biking. Thus at the beginning of the immersion program, all of the students dutifully marched to the house of a man who owns sixty some odd bicycles. Tragically he does not believe in repairing his stock, instead he gives a ten percent discount if the breaks don’t work and the advice to “be careful on hills”. The proprietor maintains that having a bicycle is the most important thing, regardless of whether it sounds like a maraca filled with screws when you peddle or if it fits.

 Proprietor “A perfect fit! It’s a good bike” (Photo Credit :

Proprietor “A perfect fit! It’s a good bike” (Photo Credit :


For the second time during my stay here, I had to return my bike to him to receive a new inner tube. Instead of staying while he completed the repair, I asked whether I could borrow another bicycle for the day. He said “yes”. Having seen a tall guy hunched over a bike for a ten year old, looking like the bear in the picture above minus the fur, I quickly grabbed the nearest two wheeler and stated “This one works” before the owner could choose a bike for me.


Owner “Ah yes, a good size, you are small, the bike is small. Be careful on hills” (Photo Credit :

Owner “Ah yes, a good size, you are small, the bike is small. Be careful on hills” (Photo Credit :

The bike ended up being much too large, I flew back to the house of my host family, doing an impression of a starfish the whole way with my legs fully extended to reach the pedals and my flimsy pipecleaner arms stretched as far as they could go so my fingers just grazed the handlebars. Toppling sideways off of the enormous bicycle, I walked up the stairs to the house. Tasia, the mother of my host family greeted me “The bike owner just called. He accidently lent you his son’s bicycle. You have to return it.”

I have no doubt that had the bicycle owner not reached my host, the police would have been the next call. “One of the girls staying with Tasia took my son’s bicycle. I can’t reach Tasia, go find her.” It’s a small town, there’s not a whole lot else the police force has to do.

*Names have been changed to protect the identities of people who chose not to hand me over to the fuzz.