I hid snacks from my children and forgot where. They found them. In March. It's October.

Top of the wardrobe, behind the suitcase. A full pack of biscuits, expired, discovered by a seven year old on a chair. He didn't eat them. He brought them to me, held them up like evidence and asked Mummy, what is this? I'm the adult. I pay the bills. I have never felt so caught in my life.