Only Three Dozen Chocolate Chip Cookies

An entertaining excerpt from My Other Blog, Adventures at 1122-7th Street. It's entertaiing to me, anyway.


I knew, I knew, I knew I would get in big trouble. I was eight or nine years old.

I was doing the dishes after school one day. Mom made the mistake of baking six dozen chocolate chip cookies for some church get-together. Worse yet, she left them right out there on the kitchen table. They were hardly four feet away from where I was working. Mom wasn’t home for some reason, which meant Rule #1: “No cookies without my permission!”

The sight of them! The smell of them! I was in downtown Temptation City.

I only took one. Yum, yum! I only took another one. They were far and away the best chocolate chip cookies I’d ever eaten. Firm, yet chewy with lots of chips! They had walnuts in them, too!

They were big! I love big chocolate chip cookies! They were delicious! I only had another one.

By the time my brother Noel got home from school, I only had a few more.

“Wow!” he said, "What are these cookies for”?

“I dunno,” I said.

“Can we eat one?”

“Yeah, sure,” I told him. He took a couple and headed out the back door.

Well, he took a couple, so I only took a couple, too.

Wouldn’t you know it? Mom came home about then. Her eyes went straight to that plate of cookies. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes bulged out. “What happened to all those cookies?” she demanded.

“Uh, well, Noel ate some,” I confessed. Out the door she bolted, steaming after Noel. My mind was zipping around trying to figure out a way to vaporize myself. Then I heard Noel yell, “Paul said we could have some. I only had two.”

Back in the door Mom bolted. “How many of those did you eat”? she demanded again.

“Mom, I couldn’t help it,” I pleaded. “They were just so good!” Her shoulders drooped just a little, a crook of a smile almost appeared, an eyebrow flicked, oh, so faintly.

But then she exploded!

“Those cookies were for…” she thundered. On and on she went about why she made them; how many she made (“…six dozen! And now there’s not even half that!”); when she needed them; who was to have them; what it would take to make some more.

Hell hath no fury like a Mom who’s missing three dozen chocolate chip cookies.

I knew, I knew, I knew I would get in big trouble. Sure enough—I was right again.

“Not another cookie!” But only for the rest of my life.

"...and you'll clean up the kitchen every night—with a toothbrush!" But only until I graduated from college.

“And you’re grounded!” But only till the Lord comes back

It was the best meal I ever had.