I got home from church today and I just couldn't shake the chocolate chip cookie craving. It was bad. When I was a kid, I made chocolate chip cookies all the time. Like, every other day. They disappeared quickly. We were out of cookies when everyone started whining that "There's nothing to eat!" and "There's nothing to pack in my lunch!". We were dependent and addicted.
I even made them with shortening and margerine. Ick. That was horrible. At some point, Mom learned the evils of those things and we switched to butter. But they still weren't good for us... But we were addicted, and I enjoyed my after-school cookie-baking ritual. I do recall being somewhat offended when I was about 10 and Dad told me he had to stop eating my cookies. When I asked him why, he said, "Because they're turning me into a blimp." I didn't really know what that meant... just that Dad was not eating my cookies anymore.
When I was in Switzerland after I graduated, when I was really homesick, I made cookies. I was homesick a lot. After a while, the father of the family I stayed with said, "No more cookies!" I was depressed. And homesick. Finally, around Christmas time, he said I could make cookies again, and I was so happy! He laughed and said, "Oh, all this time, you really needed to make cookies!" I got right to work!
After I got married and moved out, I made cookies, but I slowly weaned myself off of them. I knew that they should be a treat, not a staple. The emotional connection was hard to break, especially living far from home. But I perservered. As I grew as a health nut, I made them more infrequently... gave up white sugar... white flour... Now I have healthier versions of cookies that I make occasionally, and I find them very yummy and satisfying, but they're still just a treat. However... the addiction lingers somewhere deep inside and once in a while, I can't say "no"...
And today... I was jonesin'. Bad.
And I gave in.
There really is nothing quite as pleasurable to me as a good chocolate chip cookie. The juztaposition of butter, sugar, flour and chocolate, in the proper proportions, is soothing to my soul. Okay, maybe not my soul... by at least my nerves. Like cigarettes (well, not to me...), but they taste MUCH better.
Jonah is gladly carrying on the tradition.
Then we sat around and watched movies... because we do that kind of thing on Sundays. On Sundays, we do fun things together and have "special treats" as Jonah calls them. Like cookies. And movies. Sometimes we get Chinese takout or go to the park.
Or sometimes we dig potatoes.
Had to burn off those cookies.