Confession Tuesday: I ate the cookie

Confession Tuesday

I ate the cookie!

A weird quirk that my mum had is an addiction to double stuf mint oreos.(I can’t judge her because I am addicted to something kind of stupid as well, but that’s a different story entirely) I always tell her not to eat them because they contain seventy calories each and the only thing she does to burn it off is open and close her laptop. The weird thing is she never gets fat.

Her constant gorging of the mint oreos (or minters as she likes to call them) started to bug me. One night the final cookie sat alone in his box, lying down in the crumbs of his past cookie roommates. However, he was not the only cookie in the freezer- there was another full, unopened box in the freezer. The good thing about that is that mum hates opening a new box because she then feels inclined to eat a lot so that they go off.

She had decided that she would only have one cookie that night- trying to be healthy (and what could be more healthy than an oreo?) Little did she know her plans were about to change. I would have to strike at the right time. This job would require skill, this precision, this job would require ninja-like reflexes. I didn’t have any of these qualities so I had to contend with the syndrome I’ve afflicted with since birth…C.C.S. otherwise known as clumsy child syndrome or commonly known as dyspraxia….Well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking with it. That poor little cookie had no idea what it was in for.

Seven o’clock struck and mum was contently watching Entourage or True Blood or something like that. I slithered down from my seat and crawled to kitchen door not attracting attention to myself. I quickly scanned the room before clumsily rolling into the kitchen, kicking open a cupboard by accident, however mum’s eyes were still trained on the screen I learned from peeking out from behind the door.

I quietly rose to my feet and opened the freezer door. I was faced by a box of oreos. Empty except for one cookie. I removed it from the freezer and closed the door. I lifted up the plastic flap and I stared at the cookie. He stared back, asking me if I was man enough. I was man enough. I removed him from his home and placed him gingerly on my tongue. I chewed it up and swallowed, then resealing the flap, only because I knew the one thing more annoying than finding no box of oreos: finding an empty box of oreos.

For some reason, it felt so good to be so bad. Okay, maybe I wasn’t a kid that throws sticks at dogs, leaving cats in the rain or sucking down stolen wieners. I wasn’t a master thief. I liked to think of my self as a Dexter Morgan: nice on the outside a killer on the inside. All I have to is keep inner Dexter in and outer Dexter out.

(cue creepy music)