Ohhhhh... Cookie!

C is for Cookie, that's good enough for me.
I would like to eat it, no matter where it be.

So Tuesday before last, Stephanie had to leave for Bible Study without leaving her hubby and children a fully cooked meal (nor even a plan for one), and since we were running low on groceries, I decided to take the kids and go to the classy Ingles (now complete with a Starbucks) in Hull. Things were going along smoothly, when we stopped at the isle with pasta sauces, charcoal, and toys (strange combination). While Elijah looked at (and touched, of course) the toys and Aubrey sat contently (for the moment) in the buggy, I examined my pasta sauce options. However, when I glanced over to check on my blond son, I found him eating a cookie from the bakery.

"Where did you get that cookie, son?" I quickly and strongly interrogated him. At first, I feared he had opened a box, but with no evidence of a container, I realized the only other explanation. In addition, the smiling man walking past (most likely a father himself), made me realize I'll be laughing about this story later.

"Right there," he said, pointing to the toys, "Somebody left it." He surely can't understand why someone would abandon such a treat, but he is absolutely thrilled by his fortune.

"Elijah, don't eat things in the grocery store, you have to buy them first. And you especially don't eat things that people have left out, you don't know where its been." I could start to picture the probable journey this sweet treat made from the bakery to the toy isle, but decide that what is done is done, and quickly dispose of the cookie in the nearest trash can.