The Power of Cookies
I feel like Daedalus. Perhaps more like the Daedalus from the corny Hercules TV show. But like Daedalus nevertheless. I fear my own creations.
Oh, I created them with the intent to do good. Spread Christmas cheer, feed the marginally hungry, satisfy the sweet teeth of my brethren... But they have since taken on a life of their own, like Daedalus's monster armor that, for some reason, could shoot fire. Or was that another episode, and this one could only bash things? I forget. But it's lively all right. And evil.
I got this recipe from email spam when I was 10, before most people knew what email was. My dad gave it to me in hopes that this recipe would be worth something. Lo and behold, they were fantastic cookies! But email spam is evil, and from evil, evil is born. (Or something.)
Soon, everyone was clamboring for these chocolate chip concoctions! My brothers bashed each other upside the head for a cookie! My father reduced himself to blatant trickery and conniving! My mother renounced her sugar-renouncing ways! My own beloved fiance trembles before their awesome power.
I should not have mentioned them to my co-workers. The Packaging Director has a sweet tooth the size of Mount Everest. Upon mentioning them, he said, "Chocolate chip cookies? Do you have them in your office?", implying that they would not last long if I did. I promised to bring them some. But if I give them cookies, I have to give others cookies... I can think of 15 people who would definitely want some, and to whom I should give cookies, as I work with them every day. But if these cookies could make my own loved ones cry for more, what sort of reaction would they invite from these sweets-loving hooligans? (Okay, maybe not hooligans, but "hooligan" is such a fun word.) Would they ask for cookies at every turn? Will I get no rest until the undying cookie monster within each of them is sated? Should I read "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" for guidance? Perhaps I should get some milk ready...
Beware the cookie, and all the chocolatey, oatmealy goodness contained therein. Deny the chocolate chip's more sinister cousin, caramel chocolate swirl chips, for they will steal your soul, even if they are 2 for 1 at Ralph's. I am already far gone, as my unnatural love for parchment paper, doughy fingers, and my new baking sheet has condemned me to a life of cookie baking servitude.
Oh, I created them with the intent to do good. Spread Christmas cheer, feed the marginally hungry, satisfy the sweet teeth of my brethren... But they have since taken on a life of their own, like Daedalus's monster armor that, for some reason, could shoot fire. Or was that another episode, and this one could only bash things? I forget. But it's lively all right. And evil.
I got this recipe from email spam when I was 10, before most people knew what email was. My dad gave it to me in hopes that this recipe would be worth something. Lo and behold, they were fantastic cookies! But email spam is evil, and from evil, evil is born. (Or something.)
Soon, everyone was clamboring for these chocolate chip concoctions! My brothers bashed each other upside the head for a cookie! My father reduced himself to blatant trickery and conniving! My mother renounced her sugar-renouncing ways! My own beloved fiance trembles before their awesome power.
I should not have mentioned them to my co-workers. The Packaging Director has a sweet tooth the size of Mount Everest. Upon mentioning them, he said, "Chocolate chip cookies? Do you have them in your office?", implying that they would not last long if I did. I promised to bring them some. But if I give them cookies, I have to give others cookies... I can think of 15 people who would definitely want some, and to whom I should give cookies, as I work with them every day. But if these cookies could make my own loved ones cry for more, what sort of reaction would they invite from these sweets-loving hooligans? (Okay, maybe not hooligans, but "hooligan" is such a fun word.) Would they ask for cookies at every turn? Will I get no rest until the undying cookie monster within each of them is sated? Should I read "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" for guidance? Perhaps I should get some milk ready...
Beware the cookie, and all the chocolatey, oatmealy goodness contained therein. Deny the chocolate chip's more sinister cousin, caramel chocolate swirl chips, for they will steal your soul, even if they are 2 for 1 at Ralph's. I am already far gone, as my unnatural love for parchment paper, doughy fingers, and my new baking sheet has condemned me to a life of cookie baking servitude.