JOEY DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!

And neither does Vanessa.

This is especially true with French fries.  If you try to snag a fry from my plate, I may try to snag a finger from your hand.

This is also true with chocolate chip cookies.  I will stop at nothing to protect any chocolate chip cookies that are within my grasp. 

Even if that means denying my adorable daughters cookies.

That's right. 

There's a routine after we pick Big Sister up from school.  We get home, they have a snack, then Li'l Bit goes down for a nap, and Big Sister either plays with me or on her own or, if she's particularly cranky after school, she has a short nap too.  I was kind of happy when she gave me a little attitude today, because it meant naptime for her.  And that meant there were two chocolate chip cookies in our little Tupperware container that I was going to be able to eat peacefully while they slumbered.

We got home and I handed out popsicles, and I got some laundry out of the dryer and did other busy-work, all the while dreaming of dunking those crumbly cookies into my favorite mug filled with some ice cold skim milk.

Then I was asked a nightmare of a question.

"Mommy, may I please have a cookie?"

Crap.

She even asked correctly. 

As if that wasn't bad enough, she continued.

"Mommy, there are two left!  (L'il Bit) can have one too!"

Sigh.

I did what any mother most mothers some mothers a few mothers only I would do in this situation.

I said no.

Before you prepare the pitchforks and gather the mob, let me plead my case.  I spent the majority of the past week feeling like garbage, and I was even diagnosed with the flu on Wednesday.  I'm a horrible patient, which makes it a little difficult for The Husband to be Mr. Personality when he's caring for me, so that left me to spend most of the time sulking and wishing my mom could come take care of me.  (I bet you didn't know I could be so immature.  I bet you also didn't know I was going to toss in a shameless plug for where I wrote more about that here.) 

Anyway.  It was a bad week.

So I wanted those cookies.

And I was going to have. those. cookies.

And I told my disappointed daughters that they'd already had a snack and that they needed to have their naps and they also needed to stop looking up at me with those precious, sad brown eyes.

Then they went to bed.

Then I went to the Tupperware and got out the cookies, poured some ice cold skim milk into my favorite mug, and I had. those. cookies.

And I have no regrets.

And when Big Sister wakes up and she goes into the kitchen, she will notice the absence of those cookies.  And she will ask where they went.  And I will look directly into her precious brown eyes and I will tell her that mommy doesn't share food mommy tried one of the cookies just to see if they were okay, and they were really dry and yucky, so she just got rid of them and she'll make more soon, PROMISE!

No regrets.