Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

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



Friday, March 27, 2015

Saying No to the Cookie

Cookie Monsters
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.
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-laundered 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 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!"
Then my son Tristan's voice, "Sorry!"
Me. "Thank you Tristan! I just couldn't leave the silly things alone!"
A pause, then my daughter's voice again, "Tiana!"
The cookie doesn't fall far from the tree.


14 comments:

  1. Haha! Where there's thanks to be had, let us heroically step up and accept it!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I, too will definitely stick my head out of my cave once the danger has passed . . .

      Delete
  2. I know that feeling--"Please eat these so I won't." Families are wonderful.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I bake a lot but we always have a house full of cookie monsters. They tend to tackle me as I take the baking sheet from the oven to the counter so I'm usually lucky if I get to taste even one. Not great for the taste buds, but wonderful for the diet.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I am so happy that I didn't miss this post. I loved it. I am so you on this one. I love cookies and Dove Chocolate and they do call to me.
    I have missed reading your posts due to being on a blog vacation. I will be back.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Two weeks ago, I had the same jeans experience. Winter is fast approaching here, so I tried on my jeans (which were quite, errr, snug, last winter), not only could I not do them up, there is a six inch gap between button and buttonhole. A summer spent eating ice cream wasn't a good idea after all :(

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I can't figure that one out. I thought ice cream was the benevolent snack! :)

      Delete
  6. I'm the same way---cookies are my weakness!!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Ahh...cookies. One of my favorite food groups! Why are they so hard to resist? Luckily I live in a house of men, so nothing lasts long enough for me to eat it!

    ReplyDelete

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