I didn’t eat or sleep or poop during the majority of finals week, so I made plans to cleanse my insides as soon as I got home. I thought leaving the 14th would give me at least a good four and a half days of healthy eating before my mom started churning out the holiday cookies. But no. As soon as I hopped into my mom’s car, she told me she had a surprise for me. That surprise was two batches of double chocolate brownie crack patties disguised as cookies.
Since then it’s been a nonstop cookie party in the Bernard household. Everything I own is covered in powdered sugar, and I could probably keep my dry hands moisturized for the rest of winter with the amount of butter wrappers lying around. My mom is just an unstoppable force of baking right now. What am I supposed to do? Not eat the cookies? For one, there are starving children in Russia who would kill for a cookie. For two, I’d hate for my mom to think her work is going to waste. I kinda like her and want her to feel like a valuable member of this fine organization (a.k.a. our family).
But now I feel like a pile of refried beans. Sometimes I force myself to eat a banana just to feel alive again. It works…for a little while. But there will always be more cookies for me to eat.