One who doesn't want to eat the whole dozen herself, I guess.
I had the last cookie in the box, and it was soft and chewy and kind of like a brownie but just a little bit crisper. And then I almost cried because there weren't any more.
As a result, I've spent the better part of the last six days stomping around my house because I didn't have any of those damn cookies. Bump has been dispatched to several different Safeways (which would be more convenient if we didn't do almost all of our shopping at Giant) to FIND THE DAMN COOKIES.
Tonight, he returned triumphant (after a cell phone call to confirm he was getting the right ones).
Nine minutes later. (Please ignore that there were originally twelve cookies in the box and please do not count how many remain. And Bump helped a little, so you can stop looking at me like that.)
Sure, now that you mention it, I suppose I could have gone to several different grocery stores myself to find the cookies, but you are not seriously suggesting that I - a pregnant woman craving sweets - go to the store, are you? I mean, for the love of God, before I was pregnant I once went to the liquor store simply to get vodka and came back with four bottles - French, Dutch, Polish and Russian - because they all looked good to me. Can you imagine what would happen if I was unleashed on the bakery at Safeway right now? It wouldn't be pretty.
By the way, I seem to be inordinately fat for only being 15 weeks pregnant. But I'm sure chewy chocolate cookies have nothing to do with that.
I may or may not be eating another one as I type this. Shut up. You can't prove anything.