|photo: sassyradish flickr|
In my observations when sharing something like a bag of Oreo or Fruit Cream with a group of kids and their tagalong parental units, inevitably all the adults will eat their ration like it's a regular single layer cookie; two or three bites with no particular plan of execution, only a singular focused goal of digestion. The shame.
A sandwich cookie needs to be savored and dissected in order to fully appreciate its cookie greatness. The top layer serves as an appetizer to prep the palate for the upcoming cookie extravaganza, next is jelly removal [if applicable], then the slow, deliberate savoring of the cream-filled centre, followed by a crunch aperitif of cookie bottom.
Yet for some reason, one that I don't really understand but am bound to, adults do not eat their sandwich cookies this manner when in the company of other adults [spouses and best friends excepted.] Children may do so in public though cantankerous adults may chastise a child during one of the stages of the junior connoisseur's cookie appreciation, usually citing it as outlawed food play. One might wonder if the chastiser wishes she could be eating her cookie just like that [something I may or may not be guilty of in the past.]
And maybe even during one of those such past events I was driven to visit the local grocers after being forced by my inner voices to eat a sandwich cookie 'like an adult'. And during that store visit I may have bought one (or two) boxes of sandwich cookies to eat in the privacy of my own home, where the voices can be silenced and the four year old never questions my method of cookie disposal -- as long as I share.
Yup. There are some things about adulthood that really suck.