Tonight as I sat down to write in my study, I felt pulled outside by the joyful sounds of children. Peeking through the wooden blinds of my quiet room, a smile grew upon my face as I watched a father and his son of five doing circles in the cul-de-sac in the dad’s sports car. The son was propped up on his dad’s lap and had firm control of the stirring wheel… dad had a firmer grip down below. The boy giggled as they took off, but as soon as he found himself driving he took the job seriously. Off to the side of me I saw a figure waving from the grass at a distance far from the driver and car. There she stood, his little sister, with her pig tails bouncing as she jumped up and down each time the car came around her way as she called out to them. It took me back to a similar time in my own life when I sat upon my daddy’s lap and steered the car around the circle in front of our house. I don’t recall how old I was or where I lived…but somewhere in my memory I could actually feel the joy the little boy next door was feeling. It was pure jubilation and fear all rolled in to one. Imagine my surprise when I realized that dad’s still create the same memories that they once did so long ago…even in our world of mega technology. I wonder if he dances with his daughter in the kitchen, letting her ride on his shoes as he twirls her around in their make believe Cinderella Ball? I sure hope so…because a fond memory stays with you a life time and appears when least expected….like today.
There I was, just minding my own business when my nostrils flared with excitement. Could it be that after a long day of cleaning and writing there was something calling my name? NO, no…my name wasn’t actually being called…not really. But as I tried to ignore the smell of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven, I realized I would not be able to resist the scrumptious delight. My mouth began to water as I focused on my work, my nostrils in tune with my mouth, fought against my brain. I MUST NOT GIVE IN, I whispered to myself. I WILL BE GOOD! But then my tummy joined in as the symphony of chanters urged me to leave my post and head to the kitchen. Still, I refused to listen. I began to read my writing aloud to distract my organs from turning me into a crazed chocolate chip cookie connoisseur! I knew it was a losing battle, but I remain steadfast at my keyboard clicking away until I noticed something strange in my writing. My fingers had jumped ship and I was now frantically writing “Cookies!” “Cookies!” Oh no, I thought, lifting my fingers from their perch. Who was this tormentor that dare bake cookies on a rainy afternoon? Why would they subject me to this anguish when I am trying so hard to be lean? Whirling around in my chair, I threw myself towards the door to give the baker a piece of my mind. As I entered the delicious smelling kitchen, the yellow walls pronounce the joy I felt inside as the smell engulfed me. I scanned the room to find the culprit that pulled me from my work…there she stood all by herself half crazed and intoxicated by the flavors wafting before her. She lifted a cookie and waved it in front of my nose, begging me to take a bite. Looking around I saw no one…yes, no one but me…and so I shoved it in my mouth and ate every single crumb of it…..disposing of the evidence that would ruin me if someone should find out!