Posted in Long-Time Married Theatre

Long-Time Married Theatre Presents:  Cookies or Death

I am in the kitchen, making chocolate chip cookies.  At my feet is the King of the Mooch Hounds himself, Rocky, giving me his Manson lamps, earnestly-yet-futilely attempting to will me to give him whatever it is I have to hand, which at the moment is raw cookie dough.  I address the dog first.  Yes, I talk to my dogs.  You talk to yours, too.  Don’t even try to lie about it.

Rocky dog, the chances of you receiving chocolate chip cookie dough are next to none. In fact, they are none. Chokkit kills puppies, and if there’s enough cookie dough to be snacking on, Momma’s gonna eat it.

In the studio, listening to the exchange (because the window over the kitchen sink that opens to the studio is open) is Scott, who is painting his minis.

Hey, did I tell you about the lady who died from eating raw cookie dough?

Whaaaat?! (in disbelief) No.  You did not.

Yeah, she got really sick.  E. coli…they had to keep on taking out more and more of her colon…


I have E. coli in my colon already.  That’s why it’s called that.  You know that, right?

Yes, but I guess she had a really virulent strain.

Or she was already immunocompromised.

I go back to making my cookies, putting them on the pan, and starting to clean up, including taking the beater off the stand mixer.  I stand over the sink, cleaning the cookie dough off the beater and eating it.

Look at me, living dangerously!

(shaking head)

Rocky assiduously guarding the chocolate chip cookies he will never have.



I've been doing some form of creative writing since 9th grade, and have been a blogger since 2003. Like most bloggers, I've quit blogging multiple times. But the words always come back, asking to be written down, and they pester me if I don't. So here we are. Thanks for reading.

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