![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Cookie Monster
I went mad for cookies just a moment ago.
I remembered I had cookies left over from lunch. Yummy chocolate chip ones from Long John Silver's made from "the cookie diva" (or so the clerk told me). I had only eaten one. I had two left.
She kinda stumbles a bit and blinks at me blankly for a minute wondering what the hell has gotten into me before questioning me...
I dash back into the kitchen and follow the same routine. Eyes following every surface with rapid movements until I spot my prey.
Of course, I don't find the cookies in my lunch bag. I run around the house again from room to room wondering where the hell I put my cookies. Finally I remember I tucked them away in my purse.
Yes, she did guilt trip me about pushing her out of the way and made me give her one...
...which she didn't eat because her blood sugar was too high.
...and then left on the computer desk right next to me with strict instructions not to touch it.
*eyes the cookie longingly*
I remembered I had cookies left over from lunch. Yummy chocolate chip ones from Long John Silver's made from "the cookie diva" (or so the clerk told me). I had only eaten one. I had two left.
Hey, I have cookies left over from lunch. Mmm... that'd be realy good about... COOKIES!My mom hears me yell but doesn't know what I'd said, so she comes running. I blindly make a mad dash for the kitchen, pushing my mom out of the way as I pass her.
She kinda stumbles a bit and blinks at me blankly for a minute wondering what the hell has gotten into me before questioning me...
*blinkblink* Wha...?I run into the kitchen and spin a couple circles looking for my lunch bag. I don't see it. I dash back out and run into the living room. I stop and glance around the room quickly, eyes darting back and forth. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize I must look like I'm on the run for my life and I'm looking for the quickest means of escape.
I dash back into the kitchen and follow the same routine. Eyes following every surface with rapid movements until I spot my prey.
There! On top of the fridge HA!By this point my mother has shook her head at me and escaped to the safety of her own room.
Of course, I don't find the cookies in my lunch bag. I run around the house again from room to room wondering where the hell I put my cookies. Finally I remember I tucked them away in my purse.
*squeals and clutches bag of cookies close to chest* Cookies, cookies, cookies. Oh, how I love you my precious cookies. *pets bag of cookies*Mom came back out when she heard me yell out, yet again. I finally told her the story at that point. Between bites of chocolate chip cookie, of course.
Yes, she did guilt trip me about pushing her out of the way and made me give her one...
...which she didn't eat because her blood sugar was too high.
...and then left on the computer desk right next to me with strict instructions not to touch it.
*eyes the cookie longingly*
no subject
Gabrielle
no subject