February 19, 2013

• Cookies

  "Did you get any flowers this year for Valentines?"

  "No," she replied sheepishly.

  "Here. This is for you. I couldn't have you go through Valentine's without getting any."  I handed her a single yellow rose with a red ribbon hidden under my sweater.

  "Thank you.  I have something for you in the car too," she smiles.

  ---

  And when we got to the car, I couldn't keep my hands off.  I could not believe she gave it me right there in the parking lot.

  She had baked me cookies! Cue the music.  ♪Can't keep my hands, my hands, my, uh, my.  Can't keep my hands, my hands my hands out the cookie jar.♪

  Now mind you.  Although from my Instagram photos you would thing I am a porker, I do not eat unhealthy at all. I usually only eat half of my meals and I never snack on things that are unhealthy. Very rarely.

  So when she gave me these cookies she told me one thing, "The only thing you have to do is tell me they are delicious."

  And they were not!  These cookies were kinda dry and the size of each cookie was uneven and simply not appetizing.  They were decent at best. So what did I do the next morning?  I texted her,"The cookies are amazingly good. Thank you for the treat."

  To this she let me know that it was sweet of me say that, but her mother gave her some real feedback and she said the next batch will be a lot better.

  But here is the thing, I really like the cookies.  Not because they are delicious, but because she had made them and thought of me.  These cookies may not be the best, but to a degree, they were made with a bit of love.  So here I am sitting in the middle of my work day chomping on these overly sweet, nutrient-lacking cookies and I love them.   

  Is this how it starts? Is this how it will begin again?

  

   Picture shown does not represent the cookies she made. FYI.  

  Addendum: If anyone ever shows you my blog, I want you to know dear that writers sometimes exaggerate for effect. Muah!

   

  • 5:35 pm
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