You’ve done it before,  haven’t you?

Even as an adult,

maybe even more so as an adult,

I’ve kifed my share of cookies when no one was looking

or better, at home.

I’ve got great alibi’s too.       .       .

G    R   A   N   D   K   I   D   S

I can always say,

“I bet the kids stuffed their pockets or book bags with those cookies!”

Or, just the lame,

“Geez, I  don’t  know  what  happened  to  those  cookies.”

So.         .         .what are you?

A  Cookie  Stealer?

A  Cookie  Borrower?

A  Cookie  Sharer?

I love the story,

you probably do to,

or at least, now you will.        .        .

Ben was still a little boy who had no great alibi’s.         .         .

no kids,

no grandkids,

no brothers or sisters.        .        .

Just Ben.       .       .

But, Ben possessed something that most don’t ever have:

An Imagination!

He knew how to use it as well.       .       .

Ben smelled the cookies

baking all the way from his homeroom in school.       .       .

When he got home from school,

the smell was the most sweetest,

best smelling ever.        .        .

Heaven on Earth

is when you get home from school

and the air is more filled

with fresh baked cookies than oxygen,

A             N             D

there’s a note from mom, saying,

“I had to go run some errands I’ll be back very shortly,”

And then in real bold,

Black Permanent Marker letters,

D   O       N   O   T        E   A   T        C   O   O   K   I   E   S !

Uhhhhhhhhhhh, Really?

He’s a boy.       .       .

He’s hungry.       .       .

Cookies are begging him

if he as one single taste bud to

A            T            T            A            C            K

until thoroughly conquered.

He does.       .       .

Mom comes home

and finds the obvious.        .        .

a lack of cookies on the tray

and in the jar,

even though Ben strategically rearranged them

to look as if not one had been broached

let alone eaten.       .       .

Mom’s good.          .          .

r  e  a  l      g   o   o   d

and lays down some

G o d l y    M o t h e r l y

I     N     Q     U     I     S     I     T     I     O     N     I     N     G 

that would buckle the strongest of knees:

“Did   you   eat   any   of   the   cookies   I   told   you   NOT   to   eat?”

“N   o   p   e,”

Ben shoots back over his shoulders.     .     .

“Now, you know God was right here when you stole those cookies, right?”

“Y u p,”

Ben says, wiping the last of the cookie crumb evidence from his mouth.       .       .

“And you know he was looking at you the whole time, right?”

“Y u p,”

“And just what do you think he was trying to tell you?”

“I think he was saying, ‘There’s no one here but the two of us–TAKE TWO!'”

Classic, right?

Classic, except,

we’ve all been caught red handed,

crumbs on the lips,

milk mustachioed,

belly-filled-not-so-little-kids-anymore, huh?

I guess it’s alright to be caught red handed

every once in a while.          .          .

especially if that every once in a while

also includes getting caught red handed

b       o       r       r       o       w       e       r       s

and even more,

s        h        a        r        e        r        s

Bake me up a batch of

T          H          O          S          E

c  o  o  k  i  e  s   and   I   guarantee,

the air won’t just smell sweeter.          .          .

Life itself will suddenly become

i   r   r   e   s   i   s   t   i   b   l   e       t   a   s   t   y

with your hand

in and out of the

C   o   o   k   i   e        J   a   r!

Hey,

Want    a    Cookie–

Why  not  T W O ?