SAA Ep. #72: When Cookies Talk

About two and a half weeks ago, I reread this fascinating, albeit rambling, blog about my own awkward methods of losing weight. After reading it, I realized I needed to take my own advice. Over the holiday season, I'd put on a little weight.

And by "the holiday season," I mean July-December (Independence Day is a holiday, right?).

And by "a little weight," I mean 20 pounds.

So I went back to being a good little Calorie Nazi, and in the past two and a half weeks, I've dropped at least 4 of those regained pounds (I weigh in on Mondays, but it was 4 pounds at the last count).

Things have gone well. I've stayed well within my calorie limits. I've exercised a lot. I'm feeling awesome.

But something happened today that I did not expect. Something awful, and wonderful...and awful...

A few weeks ago I'd ordered some Girl Scout cookies from my favorite local Girl Scout. I had ordered them before I decided to start counting calories and losing weight. I figured then that a few cookies wouldn't hurt. But now that I'm a Calorie Nazi again, these cookies aren't just cookies. They're cheerfully packaged, sugar coated, high calorie discs of evil.

I took these cookies into my home, knowing how few of them it would take to cancel out a whole week's worth of workouts.  I didn't know what to do, so I took them out and looked at them.

...that's when the real struggle began...

I heard a voice, a faint voice, say "Gracias."

"What was that?" I asked, knowing I was in the apartment alone, unless I'd completely forgotten about taking in some new Hispanic roommate....

"Oh, don't worry about TAL. He isn't much of a conversationalist," another voice said. This one was much higher pitched, and much more annoying, than the first. "Are you going to eat us now? Oh, please do!"

"Who said that?" I demanded.

"It's me!" the voice said with a giggle. "Your box of Lemonades!  We are crunchy and sweet! Eat us! Eat us like butterfly pie!"

Amazed, I stared at the five different boxes of cookies on my counter. "But...you're cookies. You can't talk!"

"Of course we can talk," another voice said. "Either that or you're crazy. Hunger can do that to people. I suggest you eat us."

Flabbergasted, I shook my head. "Um...which one of you spoke that time?"

"That was TMI," a completely different voice answered.

"Mango, I told you NOT to call me that!" The cookie box sighed. "I'm Thin Mint. THAT was Mango Creme."

"And I'M," proclaimed another box if cookies, seemingly indignant that I had not addressed it yet, "Caramel DeLite. Formerly known as Samoa. You can call me Sam."

"I call you DeLITEful!" Lemonade squealed with a giggle.

"Asante," said the first voice.

"Let me guess," I said. "That was Thanks-a-lot."

"Oh yes!" Lemonade exclaimed. "TAL is so funny!"

"You're...all funny. Weird funny," I said.

"Weird? Me?" Sam said haughtily. "You just be glad it's just us. There are more of us, you know. Ol' PB Pattie is REALLY a nutter." 

"And Shout Out isn't here, either," Mango said gruffly. "I'm glad you didn't order any of that jerk. If I have to hear that fool shout, "LEAD" one more time, Imma lead him off a cliff."

"I'm surprised short bread isn't here," Lemonade laughed. "That guy always likes to Tag-a-long."

"Must you ALWAYS be so cheerful?" Mango asked Lemonade.

"You know what they say, when life gives you lemons, eat cookies!"

"Yes. Eat cookies," Sam agreed. "If you're through with the introductions, we really would like for you to eat us now."

Again, I shook my head. "You...you WANT me to eat you?"

"Oh yes!" laughed Lemonade. "Getting eaten is our purpose in life."

"She's right," Thin Mint agreed. "We were made to be eaten. You can start with me."

"No, me!" said Mango.

"No, me!" said Sam.

"Hsieh Hsieh," said TAL.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, then said, "Look, guys...uh...cookies. I'm afraid I have some bad news. ...I am counting my calories."

"That sounds like fun!" chimed Lemonade. "Are calories like butterflies?"

"Uh, no." I said. "And...I'm afraid all of you have too many calories."

"Yay! We're wrapped in a calorie butterfly cocoon of joy," Lemonade breathed happily.

"Again," I said firmly. "NO. You have too many calories. That means I can't eat you."

A collective gasp rose from the cookies.

Even Lemonade sounded disheartened when she...it...said, "But...but...what about the cocoon. We were going to be reborn in your tummy to fly evermore."

"Lemon," Mango said calmly, "I WILL punch you in the face."

"Cookies don't have faces!" Lemonade squealed. "But if we did, I would have a sour puss!"

Mango growled. "This is serious. I mean, what do you mean you can't eat us. I'm nutritious! I have nutrifusion, enhanced with nutrients derived from fruit. I'm healthy!"

"Oh, puh-leeze!" Sam scoffed. "You can read your own box and still miss the words 'artificially flavored.' You aren't healthy. The cookie is a lie. You're just a big box of lie cookies."

"Yeah!" Thin Mints agreed.

"Merci," said TAL.

"Oh yeah, Sam," Mango retorted. "What about you, huh? Your name is a lie. Yours too, THIN Mint. Its a clever marketing scheme. If you're THIN, how can you possibly be unhealthy? Right? RIGHT? Ha! You're not even thin, really. You're just small-chocolated.  And YOU, Sam. Caramel DeLITEs? Who are you fooling, you caramel coconut fatty fatty fathead."

"Ha! That's funny," Lemonade laughed gleefully. "And mean."

"Everyone calm down," I huffed. "I think it's fair to say that none of I are as healthy as you claim."

"But what about my nutrafusion?" Mango asked.

"Sounds like hippy food to me," I said with a shrug.

"Yeah," Sam said sullenly. "If hippies got their food from laboratories instead of hippy farmers."

"Shut it, you," Mango threatened.

"Look," I sighed, "I can eat you guys. I will. I promise. But...it might take me awhile. I will have to eat you one at a time, and not every day. It could take months to finish you all."

Mango seemed satisfied. "Well, that should be okay. We do have a good shelf life."

"You should," Thin Mint snickered. "You have a lot of artificial preservatives."

"You could just put us in the freezer," Sam suggested.

"Oh, yes!" chirped Lemonade. "The freezer is like an icy winter butterfly cocoon of joy."

"There's your hippy cookie," Thin Mint said dryly.

I had had enough. "Ok. Everyone into the freezer. Thin Mints, you first."

"I really do think you're just going crazy from hunger," Thin Mint said as I put the box inside the freezer.

"It's better this way," Sam said as his turn came. "I taste even better when frozen."

"Oh, just put me in the freezer already," said Mango. So I did.

"You know what I've always wondered about Girl Scout cookies?" Lemonade asked as I picked up her box.

"What?" I asked hesitantly.

"How come we don't taste like actual Girl Scouts?"

I sighed and put her in the freezer.

Then I picked up TAL, expecting to hear some annoying word of thanks in some weird language. But he was silent. So I put him in the freezer and closed him inside with the others.

But as I turned away to continue my dictatorship as Calorie Nazi, I heard a faint voice whisper, "Thank You."

SAA Ep. # 19: Helpful, too Late

I'm not the most helpful person in the world, but I do like to help people out when there's something I can do. There are times, however, when I am just not as helpful as I might be.

Sometimes I get a case of the lazies and tell my friends I can't help them move because I'm tired. Now, this is truthful, but I'm not so tired that I can't help out. I'm basically being a lazy, no good friend.

Sometimes, I'm more than willing to help out, but I have to work when they need me. This is frustrating, but it kind of comes with the whole "working three jobs" territory. Chances are, if you call me last minute, I'm not going to be able to help.

Other times, people ask me to help out with stuff when I'm not the best person for the job. "Hey, Ruth, I could really use some help with my calculus homework." "Hey, random person with calculus homework, I'm not your guy. How 'bout letting me edit your English paper, though, eh?"

Then there's the situations like the one that occurred last night:

My friends and I are all standing in the foyer at church, just chatting. All of the sudden, out of the blue, and completely without warning (I think this might be a little too dramatic for this blog), a white minivan pulls up under the overhead awning thingy. Actually, I'm not sure if it's called an awning. Is it a parapet? A canopy? I'm not sure. It's the little thingy people drive under when unloading their kids.

And sure enough, one of my friends hops out of the car and starts going through the difficult process of unloading her kids. She has four of them, one of which is still a baby, and the oldest is about 6. So my friends and I were watching her, talking about how great she is with all her kids. We talked about how cute her kids are. We talked about how much we love her family.

Then, after about 3 minutes of watching this awesome mommy unload her four kids from the van, I was struck with a brilliant idea. "Maybe we should go out there and help her."

By the time I've thought of this, the mom entered the church with four kids in tow. It's not that I didn't want to be helpful, but for some reason, it just occurred to me to be helpul...a little too late.

I kinda sorta redeemed myself by watching her kids while she went to park the van, but *shrug*, I blew it.

Things like this happen to me all the time--probably because I'm not as considerate as I might be. I'm not sure if that's a symptom of the social awkwardness, or if it's just a symptom of good ol' fashioned human stupidity.

There are times when my roommate starts bringing in armloads of groceries. After her third trip, I get the bright idea to help her, just in time for her to say, "Oh, that was the last load." I offer to help the lead teacher in the preschool classroom where I teach, as she is cutting out stacks of construction paper butterflies. I ask her just as she is cutting the last one.

It just doesn't occur to me to help until it's too late. Maybe I need to be more like this one ultra observant and considerate roommate I had in college, who would hand me one of her post-it notes or pencils before I was able to grab one of my own from my desk. Wait...no...she was really annoying, actually. Helpful, but annoyingly so.

But it's my own fault I got that roommate, because after a less than satisfactory experience with a roommate who was extremely inconsiderate, I spent the summer praying: "Dear Lord, please give me a considerate roommate. That's all I want. I just want her to be considerate."

God does have a sense of humor.

I got a roommate. I got a considerate roommate. She was so considerate it drove me nuts. One night I remember shouting at her, "Why do you have to be so stinkin' considerate all the time?"

She thought I was crazy, and maybe I am.