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I have a million stories that bubble and collide in my brain. To get these out and on to paper is a compulsive need. An alcoholic craves the drink. A junky craves heroin. I crave the written word. ~Angi King~

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Imagine that you are a man, exhausted from an intense day at work. Your belly is full. You're sleepy. You tuck your little youngster i...

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Thursday, September 1, 2016
As my kids get older I find myself thinking about when they were younger. The innocence that was unique to the young; with their eyes open wide, eager to learn, trusting that the words spoken by their parents is gospel. Being the type of parent I am, I realize now that I have damaged my kids to the point I will be billed for their therapy; and yet at the same time, taught them a valuable lesson.

The biggest of these lessons involved Oreo Cookies. The lesson I now dub as “Never take anything at face value.”

When my oldest was a toddler I kept a stash of Oreo Cookies. I didn’t necessarily like Oreo cookies, just the creme filling. So I would grab about 5 cookies from the bag, twist the two sides apart and eat the creme, them put the two halves back together. Sometimes my husband at the time would take the halves and put them in his ice cream or just eat them. Until one day I found the perfect receptacle for disposing of these unwanted, tasteless halves.

One day she toddled up to me, tugged at my pants leg. Her big blue eyes asking before her small voice asked “Momma cookie?” Well, I just so happen to have three cookies ready for her and gave her one. A big smile emerged from her face, her eyes danced as she took it with both hands put it to her mouth. I handed her another which she gladly accepted. She toddled off to go play with her toys munching on the two chocolaty halves, dropping crumbs as she went into the next room.

All was well in the world. I made my daughters day by giving her a cookie and I got my creme filling. It was perfect. This perfection continued for five years. Five wonderful, glorious years creme filled years.

Until her father ruined it.

Her father was digging in the cookie basket. My daughter being the mad cookie fiend that she is, raced into the kitchen, arms up, begging for a cookie. Little did he know his next action would bring about a devastation that would unhinged the delicate world that this poor innocent child existed in.

He reached into the basket and handed her an Oreo cookie, creme filling and all. I entered the kitchen just in time to witness the horror, the disgust, the utter travesty. She looked at the cookie wondering what in the world that white stuff was. She then gave her father a look that said “Do you not know what a cookie is?” and them proceeded to burst into tears. She ran from the kitchen into the dinning room wailing, each stomp of her foot punctuated her piercing wale as it impacted the ground. She chucked the cookie onto the table clenched her fists at her side continuing her hysterics.

Her father who had either the patience nor the tolerance for such an emotional display, picked her up and placed her into her room.

I am left standing in the dining room contemplating killing the man of my first born child. Surly this is grounds for divorce right? The delicate balance in which the world exists in, is now in shambles. The system was destroyed. I am left with the very possibility that I may have to eat the whole cookie instead of the creamy goodness that I crave.

The worst part of this whole debacle is even though her father had no clue as to the extent of the actions; neither did I. My daughter is betrayed. Her mother lied to her and concealed the truth from her. She is now 21. To everyone we meet the first thing out of her mouth is. “Hello, do you know my mother is an evil woman because she lead me to believe for seven years that Oreo’s had no filing?”

I am now known to be a vile and evil woman. I should be locked up for the neglect and abuse of a young child. Well its either the Oreo Cookie Catastrophe or the “Mel Gibson Is Your Dad Debacle”. But that is another story.