Today was an uneventful day; I got about two thirds of the way through my book before realizing that I’ve read it before. (Alas, poor brain cells… I barely knew ye.) My father took the kids outside and gave them rides on the tractor and then set them to work picking up scraps around the woodpile. Everything was going along smoothly.
Then it happened.
This afternoon, Monkey asked for a “Kira cookie.” This will apparently be our household name for the most amazing molasses cookies on the face of the earth, which–courtesy of my beloved Kira–we have been happily gorging on since we embarked on our trip last Friday.
It was then that I discovered there are only two Kira cookies left. I shared this info, and suggested we save them.
I have two children.
If you think there’s no dilemma here, you haven’t had one of these cookies.
Let’s see…. If I eat one, they can split the other one. No, they’ll complain about that. Hmmm. If one of them does something really naughty, then I can have one and the other child can have one. That might work.
Or, I could eat them both, and shred the ziploc a little bit and leave it on the floor, and blame my parents’ dog.