If You Give a Mom a Cookie


                If you give a Mom a cookie, she’ll probably stand at the counter to eat it, with her back to her children so they don’t see her eating a cookie right before dinner time.

                As she stands at the counter, she’ll see a pile of crumbs.  She’ll sweep them into her hand and throw them in the trash.

                When she throws them in the trash, she’ll notice the bag is full and needs to be taken out.

                When she goes into the laundry room to get a new trash bag, the washing machine will finish its load.  She’ll start to unload the washer.  As she starts to unload the washer, she’ll discover that the dryer is full with last night’s load.

                She will empty to dryer into the basket.

                As she empties the dryer, she will pull out Youngest Son’s baseball uniform, which will remind her of the game later that night.  She’ll want to bring the uniform up to his room so there isn’t a mad scramble to search for it in the pile of clean laundry at the last minute.

                As she carries the uniform up the stairs, Youngest Son will call to her from the next room, insisting to share the details of his latest Fortnite battle.

                She will stop and listen, and put the uniform down, as he describes how he “sniped” someone and took 80 points off their health but someone else came up behind him with an axe.

                While she is listening to the details of the Fortnite battle, her phone will ding with no less than three new texts.  She’ll pull the phone out of her pocket to check quickly on what is sure to be an update on this evening’s carpool. 

                While she’s quickly checking her phone, her son will insistently say, “Mom!” because she’s staring at a screen instead of listening to him.

                She will put her phone down because she doesn’t want to set the bad example, all the while saying to herself, don’t forget to text back, don’t forget to text back. 

                While she’s repeating this to herself and her son is finishing his story, she’ll notice the tufts of dog hair on the floor under the computer desk.

                She will have to get the vacuum.

                On her way to get the vacuum, she will pass the bathroom and notice the toilet seat is up.  Because she hates it when her bathroom looks like the public restroom at a truck stop, she steps in  to put the seat down.  As she steps in, she will notice the toilet paper roll is empty and no one has replaced it.

                Of course.

                She will reach for a new roll and notice the basket is empty.

                She will have to go upstairs to get another roll.

                As she walks up the stairs, she will notice the lights left on in Middle Daughter’s bedroom. She will step in to turn off the lights.

                As she steps back into the hallway she will pass Oldest Daughter’s room.  She’ll notice her bottle of hairspray on the dresser.  She will take the bottle of hairspray to put it back in its rightful spot, in her own bathroom.

                As she’s walking to her bathroom, her stomach will growl, reminding her of the unfinished cookie on the counter.

                As she walks back downstairs to find the cookie, all of the following things happen at the same time:

                Middle Daughter will ask who’s driving the carpool to dance.

                Youngest Son will yell out from his room that he can’t find his baseball uniform.

                Oldest Daughter will call from the bathroom that there’s no toilet paper left.

                The Mom will let out a sigh as she realizes she never answered the text, that she put the baseball uniform down… somewhere, she forgot to grab the toilet paper, the laundry is still half in the washer, the trash is still full, the tufts of dog hair are still all over the floor, and she can’t even remember where she put her bottle of hairspray.

                And, as she enters the kitchen she will notice that someone has eaten her cookie.


4 thoughts on “If You Give a Mom a Cookie

  1. Pingback: Shame on Me | Gretchen L. Mulroy

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