Heredity
We have a very small freezer. Anything that goes in there has to be crammed in and precariously balanced in hopes that when the door is opened, nothing falls with a painful thud onto bare or sock-clad feet below.
Among the items taking up space are a likely-by-now fossilized chocolate Easter bunny. It was given to my sensitive, loving, empathetic wife before we were married (we've been married six years.)
There it has remained. Rebecca can't bear to eat the bunny's chocolate head. In a few scant years, the chocolate bunny will be old enough to apply for a driver's license, although once it would thaw out, it would likely dissolve under the intense rays of the summer Georgia sun, not to mention its difficulty seeing over the steering wheel and applying the brake simultaneously.
Anyhow, cut to yesterday. We are in Border's Books and my wife is purchasing a raspberry mocha latte. I don't drink coffee, but I know enough to know my wife loves raspberry and chocolate, as long as they are not shaped like a bunny. This cup of coffee entitles her to a free cookie, but there is only one chocolate chip cookie left and a 5-year-old who would likely devour it if she learns of its existence. Rachel was a few feet away, looking at a Nick Kids or Disney magazine.
Rebecca then spots an adorable little shortbread cookie. It has yellow and brown icing on it and is in the shape of a cat, complete with whiskers and a cute little nose. She buys both cookies and the coffee. We round up Rachel and walk out to the car.
Rebecca tells Rachel she bought her something special, but she is not going to give it to her until we're in the car. Naturally, the twenty seconds of suspense drives Rachel crazy. We get to the car. Rebecca gives Rachel the cookie. Rachel thinks it is cute.
Rachel and daddy head to a nearby Barnes and Noble to see whether it has children's books Border's did not. Mommy walks down from the Border's to check out Michael's. Daddy and Rachel are happy not to be at Michael's and will return to pick mommy up.
It is maybe five minutes from Border's to Barnes and Noble. As I turn right and prepare to park, Rachel tells me, "This cookie is too cute to eat!" I crack up. "You're going to have to tell your mother that when you see her in a few minutes." Rachel asks whether she can take the cookie with her, all while repeating it's so cute, she doesn't know whether she can eat it. We decide to leave it in the car. We walk hand-in-hand to the store.
When we pick up mommy at Michael's, I tell Rachel to tell her mom what she told me. Rachel does so. "Looks like we've got another one!" I exclaim.
I mean, I'm sensitive and sentimental too. It's one of the reasons Rebecca married me and our marriage continues to work. However, if it's chocolate or a sweet, it's going down my gullet no matter how cute it is.
By the way, the cat cookie did get eaten several hours later. As far as I know, the chocolate Easter bunny is still in the freezer.
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