CAUGHT WITH MY HAND IN THE BAG

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

COOKIES (C) IN THE SERIES CLIF FROM A TO Z

 She can never hear anything I say―it seems.

But let me put my hand in the cookie bag and she hears it―even when she is off in some other room.

Cookie jar? No. We don't need one. Cookies at our house don't last long enough to bother with taking them out of the bag for a more permanent residence.

There is nothing permanent about cookies at 5617 E. Marilyn Road.

I am told that children and elderly people are especially fond of cookies. I fall into the elderly category.

Once while visiting with Charlotte's elderly parents we took her mother grocery shopping. We were buying the groceries and were putting into the basket the things we knew they needed. Her mother kept putting in bags of cookies. Finally, Charlotte said, "You don't need anymore cookies you already have bags of them at home." Her mother dropped another bag in the basket and said, "We like cookies."

We like cookies. We surely do!

I'm tempted to start naming all the cookies I like. I won't though because the list would be too long.

Think of all the cookies in the world. Which one is your favorite? If you could have only one cookie and for the last time, which one would it be?