I’m sure you all will be befuddled by this but I haven’t purchased a bag of cookies in quite some time. My physique would obviously suggest otherwise, but it’s true I kid you not. I can attribute much of my plumpness to my love of ice cream or chocolate covered almonds, however I can’t condemn the cookie, I would be wrongly accusing it if I did.
The other day while I was out doing the weekly shopping I committed perhaps one of the greatest of sins of all. I went to the store on an empty stomach. This is something that should never be done especially by this gluttonous mountain man. Everything looked so good, so of course I couldn’t let the bag of Presidential Chocolate Cookies just sit there on the shelf by itself. I had to put it in my already overfilled grocery cart. It was in my hungered opinion the it was the only choice to make.
It’s safe to say that I strayed a tad from the First Lady’s request grocery list on this occasion. (I will probably feel the ramifications of my straying at some point, perhaps I’ll do a Jesse James like media interview to discuss my straying, non?)
Now as I stated above I’m not that well versed in the world of the cookie. It’s been quite sometime since I’ve purchased a bag of cookies. So it’s easy for me to claim ignorance with the new space aged packaging that these chocolate morsels of goodness came in. I am such a cookie bag novice that I thought I could sneak a few late night cookies into my gullet without the First Lady noticing.
My attempt to have some late night cookie madness was premeditated so the other night after the First Lady retired to our sleeping quarters I quickly launched my sinister late night snacking plan into motion. I figured I would be able to sneak upstairs into the kitchen, open the bag and take out some cookies and because I’m little cocky pour myself a tall glass of milk for dipping purposes. All in all this plan seemed fool proof. The only problem I guess is that I’m a fool.
When I tried to open the bag of cookies I was thwarted with it’s first line of defence. A plastic seal on the outside of the bag. A seemingly easy task was made extremely hard by this fat cat. I couldn’t for the life of me get the darn thing off. I pulled and pulled, but it wouldn’t work. I finally had to resort to the scissors to get the bag open. I figured I was int the clear at this point. Wishful thinking I guess?
Waiting for me inside the bag was a transparent, crinkly bag that engulfs the cookies to act as another layer of protection. The most miniscule of touches would rumble through the kitchen. My stocky fat fingers couldn’t manipulate the bag in the right way thus the sound of the crinkly transparent bag was producing some new age music for all to hear.
Luckily the First Lady is a super sound sleeper and slept through all of my fumbling and bumbling. I finally got the bag open and it was pay dirt for this fat cat from then on. Cookies galore, but I tell you folks it was a chore and a half in trying to open that darn bag. I most definitely need a more stealth secret late night snack. Any suggestions?