There are only two people living in our house.
The last chocolate chip cookie was eaten.
Who could be to blame?
I could blame the cat. The cat is notoriously feline in all his movements and attitudes. I have heard that cats have preternatural strength when it comes to baked goods. He could have jumped up on the counter, carefully removed the lid of the cookie jar, removed that last Toll House yummy, and replaced the lid without anyone hearing. I'm just saying.
Or maybe it was my wife. She is always talking about how much she loved the cookies that I bake. Especially when I put walnuts in them. And yes, she is very agreeable when it comes to the chocolatey treats in the house, and almost always demurs when it comes to that last cookie. But who's to say that she didn't do that act long enough just to lull us all into complacency, allowing her to swoop in snap up that last cookie.
I know that the lamestream media has been reporting about how they heard me talking about how much I love those cookies. So much so that I learned how to bake them just so that I could enjoy them any time I chose. And I know that there was one cookie left for two days, and then after I came home from work, before dinner, there was no cookies left in the cookie jar. It's entirely possible that it has to do with the water pressure in our kitchen. Or NATO. But when things like this happen I think it's important to remember who invented those cookies. I've heard that a lot of people believe that was me. Which should pretty much give me the right to any cookie left anywhere at any time.
And event though all my lawyers have been saying that I had spent the entire day before the cookie went missing talking about how much I wanted that cookie, I wonder why these lawyers would all of a sudden want to say that it was me that ate the cookie.
Ridiculous, isn't it?