Christmas time, 38 years ago. I was eight, and mom made angel sugar cookies. These were sugar cookies with lovely red and green sprinkles. There were kept in a tin wrapped in wax paper.
I kept sneaking peaks at them knowing a few would soon be mine. I knew they were the best cookies ever made, even though I had yet to have a taste.
Dinner time, and mom also made vegetables. I hate vegetables. There is no red or green sparkly goodness to vegetables.
Dinner time, plus an hour and a half, and I'm still sitting at the table staring at those non-shiny vegetables. I was walked to the bedroom and told: "No dessert because you didn't finish your dinner."
The world ended! The unfairness of life was revealed! How could someone choose veggies over those yummy, perfect angel cookies?!
Even though those cookies were made the day before, I could still smell them and they tortured me. Those cookies! Who would eat them!? Not me. No, not me. Waves of despair pulsed through me.
I heard someone at the door, and I was ready to direct my sugar-starved rage at them. My sister snuck in, shutting the door behind her quietly. She had something in her hand. "Shh!" she says, and then handed me two cookies.
My sister risked life and limb and snuck in those red and green sparkly angel cookies.
That night, 38 years ago, I was visited by two types of angels: One type made of bits of flour and sugar, and one type made by God and sent to me as a sister.
I kept sneaking peaks at them knowing a few would soon be mine. I knew they were the best cookies ever made, even though I had yet to have a taste.
Dinner time, and mom also made vegetables. I hate vegetables. There is no red or green sparkly goodness to vegetables.
Dinner time, plus an hour and a half, and I'm still sitting at the table staring at those non-shiny vegetables. I was walked to the bedroom and told: "No dessert because you didn't finish your dinner."
The world ended! The unfairness of life was revealed! How could someone choose veggies over those yummy, perfect angel cookies?!
Even though those cookies were made the day before, I could still smell them and they tortured me. Those cookies! Who would eat them!? Not me. No, not me. Waves of despair pulsed through me.
I heard someone at the door, and I was ready to direct my sugar-starved rage at them. My sister snuck in, shutting the door behind her quietly. She had something in her hand. "Shh!" she says, and then handed me two cookies.
My sister risked life and limb and snuck in those red and green sparkly angel cookies.
That night, 38 years ago, I was visited by two types of angels: One type made of bits of flour and sugar, and one type made by God and sent to me as a sister.
Awwww. That was so sweet! Love it!
ReplyDeleteThis is so lovely!
ReplyDeleteThere is no way a vegetable could compare with red and green sparkly goodness.
I'm so happy that your sister snuck in those cookies. SO happy!!
How sweet, my mom and I made the sugar cookies and sprinkles too. You were much more stubborn than I...I would have ate the veggies to get my cookies!
ReplyDelete