I baked oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies the other day. Because I wanted to give my son a treat. Because sometimes I can be a kind and loving Mother. It’s not like Henry never gets treats, kids; he gets them pretty much every day, but for whatever reason, these cookies made him suspicious. What is she planning? What is she trying to accomplish, with this whole homemade cookie junk?
At least I think that’s what was going on. All I can say is, he ate a single cookie in the oddest, most irritating way possible. As if there might be sprouts or poison lurking somewhere within the cookie. I was going to write about it, but I couldn’t possibly describe his insane cookie-eating method in a way that would do it justice.
So instead, Scott and I reenacted it for you. Here you are.