So, to understand this next story, you’re going to need to understand the circumstances. Misti has these cookies she really, really likes. They are called Sandies Almond Crescents. She loves them, according to her they taste like heaven. Me, I think they taste like dirt. Misti and my tastebuds rarely do agree on things, so I usually make fun of her for liking things I don’t. This seems to bring me joy. Anyway, the cookies only come out at Christmas time and we’ve never seen them sold anywhere but Target. In fact, the other night, we traveled to two different Target stores in Greenville, because the first one was sold out of them. Misti would say this is because they are so tasty that everyone wants them, I say they’ve been discontinued and they are just running out. Either way you get the point. When we did find them, Misti decided to buy two boxes, one to throw our always hungry children off while she conceals away the second and takes it with her to work. I was fine with that, although, instead of buying that second box of cookies, we could have boughten another bag of my tasty potato chips that were on sale for the same price.
The kids actually did eat the whole box, but I don’t attribute this to the cookies being good, I believe this comes from Misti’s side of the gene pool. I’m pretty sure her brother Darrick will eat anything. I still remember one of the first times we were dating and I went over to her house. I’m thinking we were eating homemade pizza, although, I can’t quite remember. What I do recall, is Darrick at the dinner table. He had a full plate and was still looking for more, he had this predator type look on his face and was surveying the table like an Eagle surveys the ground for its prey. I’m pretty sure the guy even asked me if he could have some of my food! You just couldn’t fill that boy up and my kids are a lot like him. This was also the same night Misti’s brother Doug, decided to pick on the new guy and said in a droll, condenscending voice, “Dave, we don’t eat pizza with our hands in this family.” (Yeah Doug, I still remember!) But that, is a whole nother story.
So, the deal is, Misti has boughten these cookies that she absolutely adores, but, now keeps forgetting to take them with her to work. This is what inspired the email which I wrote to her on Tuesday, November 16th.
Hey Misti, no, it’s not dave, it’s us, your cookies, forgotten at home once again. Dave is so horrible, he says you don’t love us anymore, of course we never did believe him, but now that you keep forgetting us, we’re starting to wonder if that’s true. He gets us out of the cupboard and shakes us at least once or twice a day, depending on how mean he feels. We’re so afraid of him, he keeps saying I could have gotten another bag of chips for what you cost me! Just the other day he told us we weren’t good enough to be called cookies, all he does is insult us, everything he says about us is degrading. Sometimes he says we’re going to be the kids after school snack, because Misti obviously doesn’t want us?! If that were true Misti, then why did you buy us, why have you left us with this monster to be locked away in a dark cupboard?! The other cookies and candy in here seemed to have accepted their fate, they sing gospel songs of old during the day to help calm the weaker ones. They all know we will eventually be found by Dave or one of his food devouring children. That Logan one seems to be the most dangerous, Dave leaves him to roam the house free! We think he’s his second hand man in charge or enforcer of sorts. We’ve seen him do things that should never be spoken of, he tortures food! One time, he took a bags of chips out, threw them on the floor and drove a bike over them all for his warped sense of amusement. That boy terrorizes everyone and everything in the kitchen, he seems to enjoy his work. We fear that someday, we will be the crushed cookies beneath his wheels!
Misti, why won’t you save us, where are you Misti? Wait! What’s that noise? Oh no, it’s dave and logan coming up the stairs, we need to get back to the cupboard before he realizes we were gone, it’s almost shakedown time again, runnnnnnnn………… your cookies, :o(
Now, wouldn’t it be ironic, if while the same time I was writing this email, my son Logan was downstairs actually tearing the cookie box apart, destroying the inside packaging to the point of being unrepairable and stuffing his mouth full of cookies. Yeah, it’s true that would be too ironic. It wasn’t actually until later on in the day when this happened. I had gotten side tracked on the computer trying to find out if the Nebraska football game would be on ABC this weekend or if regional coverage would take over instead, because that’s what Nebraska fans obsess over when they don’t live in the midwest. Anyway, I missed one of my “Logan Checkpoints”. This works in the same manner that a prison might have roll calls, you check on the prisoners, or in this case, Logan, to make sure no funny business is taking place. When I finally did realize I hadn’t checked on the boy for quite a while, I went downstairs to find a powder sugar covered Logan (because the cookies have powder sugar on them) sitting on our sofa. Suddenly, I started to panic thinking, “Misti’s going to blame me for this!” She’s never going to believe that it was just a coincidence he got into them the same day I sent her the email. I can’t use the ole, “We only bought one box hun” that will never work with the way she keeps cookie inventoy. Concealing or making them “vanish” would only last the amount of time it takes for her to remember them. No, the only answer here was to salvage what was left of my boy’s cookie eating escapade. The truth is, he had just started eating them and after stopping him from dumping the rest out on the floor, they are now safely tucked away in a tupperware container. Yes siree, nothing but first class treatment from now on for those cookies, that is I guess, until they get eaten…