Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Sunday, June 30, 2013

All Too Human


Fellow Cookie Lovers
Cookies. The ultimate in snack foods. That perfect balance of sugars, grains, fats, and deliciousness. And the most unique and perfect forum for getting small, semi-disguised chunks of chocolate into your mouth. Chocolate that you can savor.
But dismiss as insignificant when tallying your calorie count at day's end.
Or at least I can.
I love cookies. And I make the mistake of baking them on a regular basis.
Call me a glutton for punishment.
Or just a glutton - the shoe fits. (Or did, before I started making cookies.) But I digress . . .
My six children have been raised on my cookies. Mostly with some form of chocolate as a noteworthy ingredient. They love those small handfuls of pure perfection as much as I do.
Bliss.
But life, and reality, tend to sneak up on you and smack you soundly, just when you aren't paying attention. And so it was with my cookie consumption.
I was going merrily along, enjoying my cookie-filled life until, one day, I drug my favorite and freshly-washed jeans out of the drawer . . . and couldn't do them up.
Now I know this has happened to many of us, and certainly is nothing new, but it was a first time for me.
And it made me . . . unhappy.
To make matters worse, which we all try to do far too often, I decided to step on the scale.
I should note here, that the person who invented the scale, and non-stretchy clothes, was a nasty, evil individual. But again, I digress . . .
I had to make some changes.
Or buy a new wardrobe.
Finances won. Losing weight was in order. And the first thing to go was my mostly-cookie diet.
I baked one last batch . . . and started eating them as though they constituted my last meal on earth.
Finally, heroically, I put the lid on the still-half-full cookie jar and left the room.
But they . . . called to me.
Cookies do that.
Finally, I could stand it no longer. I answered that call.
I went back into the kitchen and discovered that my beloved cookie jar . . . was empty.
At first, dismay. Then, relief.
"Who ate all the cookies?"
From somewhere in the house, my daughter, Tiana's voice, "Tristan!"
Also from the nether regions of said house, my son, Tristan's voice, "Sorry!"
Me. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you Tristan! I could hug you! I just couldn't leave the silly things alone!"
A pause, then my daughter's voice, "Tiana."
The cookie doesn't fall far from the tree.

14 comments:

  1. I'm off the hook. I restrict myself to oatmeal raisin. The.Very.Best.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Mmm . . . Oatmeal raisin. Suddenly I'm hungry . . .

      Delete
  2. I love that you made yourself a "last dessert" like you were about to walk the plank!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hmm . . . very much like walking the plank!

      Delete
  3. I don't make cookies for the same reason. The craving is actually worse when I'm trying to cut back, so I just cut them out instead :)

    Your daughter was pretty quick to catch on, there!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yep. Just don't have any around.
      Oh, she's quick all right! :-)

      Delete
  4. I forego the cookie baking and just eat the chocolate. My jeans don't fit either. I bought bigger jeans, but they're getting a little tight....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Those wretched jeans! What's with that?!

      Delete
  5. There must be a conspiracy. I think that it must be the laundry detergent they make these days that causes clothes to shrink in the closet/dresser. I'm still trying to understand how a dirty black leather motorcycle jacket can shrink to a fraction of its size without being washed. It's got nothing to do with cookies, cake, pasta or delicious meals on time. Does it?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Absolutely nothing to do with readily-available deliciousness. It definitely has something to do with the closet/dresser. I'm thinking of getting a new closet.

      Delete
  6. My cookie days are over, sadly so. In fact, all my yummy baking days seem to have disappeared. My pants were shrinking as well. I feel your pain.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My brother is right! It's a conspiracy.

      Delete

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