|Living - dead cupcakes in Cloutierville - wikimedia commons|
Maggie is only 7 years old, with those wide-eyed ways of hers. She likes to fib a little, and Granny knows it too. Now comes that cookie story, something she just has to learn. Cause if you start with cookies, down the road you'll end with somethin' else more harmful than some crumbs.
"Them cookie crumbs are there," I pointed to them at the hidden places in that smile of hers. "Now tell me the truth, young lady, Granny doesn't like you tellin' fibs again."
"I just had one," but that was all there was I reminded her, the cookie jar had nothin' left for brother who was comin' home from school."
"You killed that cookie," I explained, and Maggie said, "What! I didn't kill a cookie and I didn't hurt a thing."
So I explained that cookie is stealin', and the man upstairs says killin's bad, but so is stealin' too. I tells her, "If you can't kill, then you can't steal. They both are real bad things.
There's no such thing as lyin' either, and to cover up what's bad. Cause when you do you break the same rules that say you can't steal cookies and neither can you lie"
Maggie, her eyes just roll around, and she looks at me and says, "I promise, Granny I won't ever kill a cookie again," and then she waltzes out the door with those cookie crumbs still pasted on her teeth. So when she brushes them tonight she might remember bout what those telltale bits of cookies mean to Granny and to everyone else in life she meets that want to love her too.