Courage For A Cookie

Billows of steam dance off of the tops of warm oatmeal raisin cookies that recently arrived from their cocoon that guided them through the metamorphosis from the basic baking elements to the melody that a tall glass of milk harmonizes with.  The smell sweeps through the house delighting every nose in its path.  These cookies are not normal cookies by any means.  The mother of some very busy children put herself to work in the kitchen in order to craft her dessert to welcome them home from their journeys.  After she finishes with her labor of love, she realizes that there is no more milk, so she dashes from the house and off to the supermarket before the children come home to find their surprise.

In a small crevice of the kitchen wall behind the china cabinet, a small, gray mouse stirs.  Enticed by the aroma, he pokes his head out of his home and around the corner of the woodwork of the cabinet to see the treasures perched on top of the White Mountain high above where he gazed.  He quietly considered the risks of going after his new desire.  Ultimately, the temptation overtook his will and he started forward toward his goal.

He sauntered across the cold hardwood floor, unsure that he was completely alone.  He peers around each corner and holds his breath, breathing only when it was absolutely necessary.  After crossing the gleaming amber surface with exacted precision, the tiny mouse slowly raises his head to look at what is ahead.  Shiny knobs covering even more wood protruded from the side of the mountain he was going to have to inevitably climb.  Looking around for something to give himself a boost up to his endeavor, he found that the trash can help him with his predicament.  He takes a deep breath and runs and leaps onto the pedal of the trash can which flings him up high enough to grip a nearby knob.  After letting out a particularly curt sigh, he starts swinging himself from knob to knob until he grasps the corner of the Kitchen Kilimanjaro.  The miniscule mouse struggles his way to a prostrate position and puffs out his chest triumphantly.  He performs his obligatory victory dance and feels quite proud of himself.  He struts over to the oatmeal raisin cookies that have been patiently waiting on him and proceeds to devour the most appetizing looking morsel of the bunch.

The experience is beautiful, just as he expected.  The raisins are plump and tender while the surrounding sea of crisp cookie offers a complimenting crunch.  The little mouse is so overwhelmed with joy, he lounges back in ecstasy.  The door slams.  The mouse’s eyes pop open.  His crumbs drop.  Drop.  His heart and stomach follow suit.  “How do I get down?” contemplates the mouse.