THE COOKIE MONSTER

FEAR was my co-pilot

Many years ago when life was simple, there were no cell phones or Internet there was very little for a pre-teen to amuse his self with. Fortunately for this one, there were things to explore.

It was a Saturday morning and Mom needed Dad to take her to the supermarket since she didn’t drive. I was up and my older sister was sound asleep in her bed.

As the morning wore on I became very hungry and looked around for something to eat. I open the closet where Mom kept the cookies. The cookies were designated for the two youngest sisters as per Mom’s rules. “The cookies are for the kids! Don’t touch them, OR ELSE!” This was considered a direct order from on top, one that not even dad would break! These words echoed in between my ears as I reached for the Vanilla Wafers.

The box was unopened and sealed by the factory. What to do? Just then like the 12 Apostles hanging in the room after Jesus died, a ray of light struck me! I advanced to the kitchen drawer and withdrew a butter knife and proceeded to exact revenge on my sister for past serious transgressions where I got the worst of it. Carefully and with skill, I began to undo the glue without ripping the box top. Surgically I did a great job! I proceeded to eat about at least a half a box of those little vanilla wafers before I realized that time was running out, my parents would be home soon! I took one more cookie out for a sinister purpose, to redirect responsibility for this grievous crime. Tip-toeing to my sister’s room, I gently opened her door and stood over her bed, cookie in hand. Like a farmer feeding his flock of chickens, I began to ‘seed’ her bed with crumbs that fell as I squeezed the cookie. It was a pretty good job if I say so myself.

Returning to the box of cookies I re-glued the top back and slipped the box on the shelf and retreated to the TV to await my sister’s fate!

Soon the front door opened and in entered Dad and Mom, with the order to get the grocery bags sitting in the car and bring them in.

I sat at the kitchen table and watched as Mom unpacked the bags and started to put them on the shelves. To make room for the new groceries, she reached for the doctored box and as she moved it she made a quizzical face expression, weighted it by shaking it and notice that the box was kind of light! Shaking it again she turned her head suspiciously towards me and squinted her eyes.

“YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THIS?”

“Huh? Who me? What do you mean, Mom?”

“THIS BOX OF COOKIES SEEMS A LITTLE LIGHT!”

I decided to lie to my mother, the woman who endured 9-months of agony carrying me around during her pregnancy one more time! This, of course, would hold me over until the next time.

“No Mom, I have no idea.”

“I’ll get to the bottom of this!”

With those words, she turned on her heels and marched into my sister’s room, and without a paused demanded an explanation of why a cookie box that was full one day managed to become almost empty a day later.

“I didn’t do it!!! Did you ask HIM?” pointing at me, who happened to be leaning against the doorframe enjoying the encounter.

"LOOK! THERE ARE COOKIE CRUMBS ALL OVER THE BED! WHO ARE YOU KIDDING?”

Two things here: I think it is bad manners to point and call someone “HIM” when that person has a perfectly good name. Secondly, should Mom have said: “Whom” rather than “WHO”?

“I didn’t do it!”

“Oh, don’t give me that, your brother would have ripped the box cover off! You are grounded!”

It was my perfect crime! Also, the cookies were good!