Who Stole the Cookies From the Cookie Jar?

The Evidence

Ace and Mark bake the BEST Neiman Marcus chocolate chip cookies.  They are so delicious an afternoon batch of two dozen is usually finished by 7pm.  When Mojo gets home all he finds is an empty cookie jar.

Sunday night as I was walking out the door to yoga class, the boys were baking again.

“Please save some cookies for Dad,” I told them.  “He feels bad when he gets home and there is nothing left for him.”

“We promise,” they chorused.  “We will leave him FOUR cookies.”

Hungry after my yoga class, I wandered into the kitchen around 9:15 and found a plate with a few crumbs.  I was surprised Mojo would leave even a single chocolate chip crumb.  I thought it would be a funny photo so I took a picture then ate the remains.

When I went upstairs to say hello, I gave Mojo a kiss.

“You smell like chocolate chip cookies,” he said accusingly.

“Yes, I ate your crumbs.  That was all you left me.  Did you enjoy your cookies?” I said sarcastically.

“Cookies?  Where?”  Before I could say anything he was running down the stairs.  I followed.

“Where are the cookies?” he asked me as he searched the cabinets.

I showed him the yellow plate and said “You ate your cookies.  The evidence was sitting right here when I came home.”

He glared at me.

“I cannot believe you ate my cookies!”

“I didn’t.  I came home and found the plate.  See I even took a photo.”  I showed him the picture on my phone.

“The evidence!  You ate my cookies and then you took a picture of the crumbs.  How could you?”

Hearing the boys above us, playing in their dark room, I said “Go ask the boys.”

He went upstairs.  Within a minute both boys ran into the kitchen.  Giggling they looked at the plate then started pointing their fingers at me.

“You ate Dad’s cookies!  We left them here for him.  Why did you eat his cookies?”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

Mojo comes into the room smiling.  “See I knew you ate my cookies.  How can you do that to your husband?”

Looking at the three of them, I knew I would not win.  I gave up.

The next afternoon, the boys said, “Mom since YOU ate all the cookies yesterday, can we make some more for Dad?”

“Sure.  Just save one for me please.”

“No way. You ate all of them yesterday.  These are for Dad,” they snickered.

Against three lawyers bonded by sugar and chocolate chips, how can justice prevail?



Tales by Chapter

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