Every Sunday afternoon was a big event for me as a child. There was the traditional Sunday feast at my grandparent’s house. This was quite the gathering that included my family as well as my Aunt and Uncle and my three cousins. After church my parents would pile my sister and I into the family caravan and head on out to Boulder to my grandparents house where the whole family would gather for a late lunch. As soon as we got to the front door the aroma of barbecued chicken and mashed potatoes and countless veggie plates filled the air. I would be overcome with excitement as I walked into the front room as Princes, my grandmother’s prize schnauzer, would great me by jumping all over me and begging to me to play. What came next was what really drove my parents crazy and me into a frenzy. The candy jars. They were everywhere and in nearly every room. It was literally my own slice of the chocolate factory. I looked forward to this moment all week, every week. As I gave my usual nonchalant greeting to the rest of the family with my eyes fixated on the colorful bounty that consumed my every thought I wiggled my way through the many hugs and kisses from my grandparents and my Aunt to finally reach my prize. It was all worth it. I was in heaven. There where chocolates, taffies, and hard candies galore. I would go half out of my mind just trying to choose which to eat. As a young boy I thought the smart answer would be to just eat them all. So, as the little go getter my grandfather claimed I was, I tried. Not to be out done by my sister, together we would hoard as much candy as we could and hide in the basement and go bananas. This, I am quite sure, is what causes ADHD.