A self-indulgent personal blog post. Oreos are involved.

So my wife tells me as she’s leaving that she has pulled a William Carlos Williams and had the last of the Oreos*.  Which is fine; she’s getting to the end of her second trimester.  Pregnant women get first dibs on the Oreos**.

So I’m in the kitchen getting myself a cup of coffee, and I pick up the container of Oreos and shake it, knowing full well that there aren’t any cookies in there, but you have to check – and damned if a cookie didn’t slide down the internal sleeve to serve as my demented American version of biscotti.

No further message; if I try to make this into something more profound people will throw rocks at my door, I’m sure of it.

Moe Lane

*Disturbingly, Amazon had a link for “Used and new” Oreos.

**It’s in the Constitution, actually.

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