Cookies and Crackers

One night, during my childhood, my young sister snuck out of bed to have herself a midnight snack of Oreo Cookie filling. No, not the cookie, just filling.

She creeped into the dining room, quietly pulled off the chrome plated lid of the glass jar where the cookies resided, and carefully twisted apart the chocolate cookie. She ate the yummy middle by licking it until it was clean. When she was through with the entire jar, she put the two halves back together and replaced each cookie.

The following day, my poor dad had a snack attack and sought out the comfort of the Oreo cookies. She watched as he took his first bite of his chocolate dreamwich and discovered his worst nightmare had come true. No filling.  Not a scrap.

There was no need to search for the culprit. Everyone knew who the guilty party was. Our resident cookie monster.

Today, I had the pleasure of having a 20 minute phone conversation with my Lollygagger. During our conversation, she told me she was eating a bunch of crackers. These crackers must have been exceptional, because she kept telling me how good they were and was giving me a full description of their flaky texture, the light salty taste, and the spectacular creamy cheese in the middle.

I was intrigued. How could I not be, with the detailed description she gave me. I asked her if she would save me one so I could taste it too.

Upon my arrival, she immediately handed me a bowl filled with her crackers. I was so honored, so impressed that she saved so many for me. Overwhelmed by her generosity, I gushed over her giving her hugs and thanks for being so thoughtful.

When I opened the bowl, I grabbed myself what I thought would be a satisfying salty snack. What I bit into was a sandwich cracker with the cheese licked off.

I love how history repeats itself.