Please send cookies

I don't make cookies. I don't make Rice Krispie "treats." I don't make brownies. If I ever have a craving for such a sweet, I will go to the store and buy one serving. It's so cold. It's so New York.

I am not my mother. But, you know what? She makes my father damned happy.

My dear friend, who was also the secretary of our middle school, used to mail me homemade cookies in college. Sometimes my lovely neighbor bakes and leaves me a bag of goodies on my door hook. And today, my coworker offered me cookies. He is fresh from Minnesota, and HIS MOTHER sends him cookies, which he always brings to work. Can you imagine?

Like a casting director pleading silently to an actor, I look at my morning oatmeal and pray: Make me want you!!!