The Cookie Incident

When I was a toddler, we lived in Stanford, California in the married student housing attached to Stanford University.  All the young mothers were usually on very friendly terms; they babysat for one another, socialized and such.

One day, my Mother asked me if I wanted a cookie. I had an absolute, shrieking, out-of-control tizzy fit. Just then, one of the neighbors came over.

“What did you do to her?” she asked.

“I asked her if she wanted a cookie,” my Mother replied.

I have been asked why I was so upset.  Indeed, most toddlers are not easily offended by the common pastry. Who knows?

I was always “dramatic,” as my Mother put it.  Maybe I was rehearsing for something…

FIN

Cheese Wisdom

Age is not important unless you're a cheese.Helen Hayes

Archives

Categories

In Memorium