Because I didn’t blink, I witnessed my son’s cookie disappear in three chomps…to include the visual act of chewing.
Across the table, I watched my daughter whittle her cookie down to half its size in just thirty-five nibbles. In a lumpy pile at her fingertips was each chocolate chip still crusty with oatmeal.
“The most chocolate chips I’ve ever had in a cookie was NINE,” she said.
“Nine,” I nodded. “That’s something.”
I made a move to snag the pile of chips.
She gasped. Surely her mother wouldn’t.
I winked as I slid them back.
because she is my smeller of roses; my chocolate chip counter.
And oh, how I need her in my life.