If a cookie ever talks to you eat it!

I don't know why I'm so selfish. IH bought me some Mochi the other day at Trader Joe's, and you would think that I've shared some of this amazing splendor with my boys. But of course I didn't. Truth be told, it's hidden in the back of my freezer. Hidden--behind all the frozen impulse-buys from Trader Joe's that I forget are there, and end up throwing away because they taste like nasty freezer. Hidden--away from little eyes that are desperately searching for something sweet to eat while I offer instead a tangerine or granola. My excuse? I love Mochi.

I guess that excuse could work if that's where the selfishness ended. But it doesn't. Just the other day while Ethan slept in the backseat waiting for Seb's piano class to end, I munched on the most delicious chocolate chip cookie ever (next to my recipe, of course) from Joe's BBQ. I meant to save a piece for ET, I really did. Come to think of it, I did save a piece for him, but he was sleeping for so long, that the cookie actually started to ask me to eat it. I was just minding my own beeswax when it happened, and what was I supposed to do, deny its one request? So I ate it and I washed it down with a big gulp of guilt. I was looking at Ethan as I ate the final piece--rationalizing it in my mind that he eats enough candy, I'm helping his teeth out, okay? Well, Okay, but then the memory of my mom bringing home little pieces of brownie from the company potluck or a piece of cake from some co-workers birthday quickly popped into my mind.  She always had a little goodie for me, tucked away inside of her purse wrapped in a white napkin like a little present--a gift--just for me. 

So here I am, years later, and I am doing the opposite. Instead of sweetly keeping the prize for my little sweethearts to open up in unexpected glee, I shove it in my mouth like there's no tomorrow.

And I love every single minute of it.