Earlier this week I eagerly stood behind Karen as she opened the oven door. I tend to do this whenever she bakes cookies and this batch of the chocolate chip variety was no exception. My strategy: dart in to steal a cookie -- OK, maybe two or three -- when she loads the next cookie tray.
This time, however, Karen grazed the hot oven rack with her hand. With a yelp and demonstration of her lightening reflexes half the cookies skidded off the cookie sheet tumbling down to the bottom of the oven. Landing on the glowing heating unit they instantly burst into flames. The oven lit up as six flaming cookies illuminated it’s dark recesses. With absolutely no coordination we eventually returned the still flaming delicacies back onto the cookie sheet where Karen finally blew them out.
Now, I couldn’t help but reflect on how many units of energy (commonly referred to as calories) were packed into each of those cookies. And I wondered how long it would take my body to burn them up with my significantly slower metabolic rate. From there I reflected back to my Boy Scout days when I struggled to find dry kindling never knowing I could just light a chocolate chip cookie. Perhaps we should keep a few on hand for the next power outage when our flashlights hide where I last misplaced them. No, that wouldn’t work. I’d just eat them.
Yes, this section of a painting I did years ago is not very good and although it was great fun to paint, it is unlikely to ever see the light of day again. However it’s the only painting I have ever done that includes a chocolate chip cookie, a flammable substance the attributes of which I hope the TSA never discovers. How sad to think of boarding some future flight as the TSA inspectors munch away on my seized contraband.