C is for Cookie

Eva does it for my own good. She hides the junk food to protect me from snacking in the middle of the night.

It is a Gould thing: my dad is rather restless at night and oftentimes wakes up, and then finds himself in the kitchen snacking. When my uncle was visiting us a few years back, all three of us found ourselves in the kitchen in the middle of the night. While I rarely sleep through the night, and while I try not to snack when I do wake up, open boxes of cookies are just loud. They talk to me.

The last two days, I've seen leftovers (crumbs) of these cookies in the house, but I couldn't find the darn package. Eva really hid them good this time. Where did she hide the darn cookies. She knows not to hide them to high, for she is afraid that I'll climb on a chair in my half sleep trance to get them.

When I came home yesterday, I found a half eaten cookie...and wanted one myself. I looked...looked...and looked. Nowhere could I find the cookies.

Then, at dinner, I had an idea:

"Quinn, where does Mama put the cookies".

"Over there", he said, pointing to the cabinet where we put our games.

"Good boy". I finally found the cookies. Eva and I laughed hard and loud for a while - Eva's face even turned red.

"I knew I should have not shown him where I put the cookies."

It's a Gould thing, I guess.