By Doug Smith
My 92-year-old Mother still bakes cookies for me. And they’re good. I have been enjoying them since I started eating solid food — sixty some years ago.
Without fail, whenever I visit her, there is a plate of freshly baked cookies waiting, and the kettle is on for a cup of tea. (The cookies are far too divine to sully by dunking; the tea is strictly for washing them down.) I gush when I lay eyes on the plate, and utter all the appropriate yummy noises when the first one crosses my lips. My performance may be predictable, but it is nonetheless genuine. I’m the baby of the family, and though it’s probably not true, I like to think the cookies Mom makes for me are extra-special. Call me a Mama’s Boy, it’s a badge I proudly wear.
She bakes several types, but the best by far is the humble chocolate-chip cookie. Granted, a boy is predisposed to like his Mother’s cookies, but people beside my older siblings love them too. Occasionally, Mom will “accidentally” bake too many, so I’ll take them to work and put them out. As soon as word gets around, they instantly evaporate (I naturally hold back a few for myself). Even a co-worker who never has anything good to say about anyone or anything, remarks on how delicious the cookies are, and insists that I thank my Mom.
There is nothing special about her recipe, it’s the standard chocolate-chip affair. But each beautiful, perfectly baked, perfectly sized treat has an extra large dollop of Motherly Love. One can taste it in every scrumptious bite.
If you took all that is great about all the cookies in the known universe and distilled them down to one golden, radiant cookie, it would be Mom’s chocolate-chip masterpiece. Mother Superior, The Mothership, Mother Goose, Mother Teresa, even Mother-Nature herself, couldn’t top my Mother’s cookies. If we could magically get Mom’s cookies to all the world leaders, there would be no more war.
I will visit her on Mother’s Day, profering the usual cheesy greeting-card, and there will be a plate of cookies waiting for me. Everything and everyone ages, but this boy’s love of his Mother and her cookies will never get old.
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