Soft Batch Chocolate Chip Cookies

So, last week I started my memoir writing class, and oh my god, am I so glad I'm doing this! There are maybe 12 of us, and we are all ladies. I don't know why, maybe women are more introspective or something. But it's actually really nice. It's sort of inadvertently a women's therapy group. A lot of these women have some crazy, traumatic, touching stories to share, and I feel so privileged to get to hear them. Also, it's an excellent reminder that as humans we all share the exact same insecurities and shortcomings -- we all have troubled relationships with someone. And those troubled relationships are usually with our family members.

Anyway, last night was the second class, and I think one of my favorite parts may be the short in-class writing assignments we're given. I like these because it forces me put some stuff down right on the spot and not think about it too much. Last night's assignment was to write about a place that has meaning for us. Here's what I wrote:

Grandpa has Soft Batch chocolate chip cookies at his house. He puts them in different drawers every time to try and hide them from me, but I always find them. I don't like to chew them -- I like to hold them on my tongue and squish them to the roof of my mouth until they separate into individual grains of sugar.

I like to lie on my belly in the green shag carpet on the living room floor and hunt for change that's fallen out of his pockets. Then I like to crawl like a cat over to the window and part the dusty vertical blinds to look at the backyard. I don't usually like going out there, though, because I know there are spiders and ants, and my ankles begin to itch when I think about it. I like to imagine that there are jungle animals crouching or slithering or climbing through the low-hanging tree branches, the overgrown bushes and the weeds.

Later, I like to sit on the fat vinyl chair at the kitchen table, the one that spins the fastest. I spin one direction until the cabinets and the dingy yellow linoleum and the poker chips on the table are all a blur. Then I stop myself with a jerk and spin the other way. When I feel the Soft Batch cookies start to come back, I peel my sweaty legs off the chair with a loud thhhhhhhhp.