Smiley Cookies, and Magpies!

Ever hear the smiley cookie story? Well it goes something like this.

                Tracy listened to the sounds escalating in the living room, and gritted her teeth. Sara and Freddie were fighting. Again. Something had to be done about it, but what?  She turned another page of the cookbook that she was glancing through and her eyes fell on a recipe for Sugar Cookies. Ah-huh, we will make sugar cookies together. She smiled a secret smile. But these will not be just ordinary sugar cookies.

                “Hey, kids;” she called,” “Anyone want to help me make cookies?” Just like she expected they both trouped into the kitchen eager to help.

                “Can we make Sugar Cookies,” Sara asked.

                “Can we decorate them?” Freddie demanded.

                “Sure, why not?” That had been the whole idea anyway.

                Nobody seemed to mind that they were getting into each other’s way as someone was delegated to portion out the right among of sugar and dump it into the bowl, someone else the butter and they both got to crack eggs into their favorite red mixing bowl. Soon the dough was blended together then the real fun would begin. They were surprised and a bit disappointed that all the cookies were going to be punched out in round shapes.

                “I had wanted to try out that new ‘elephant’ cookie cutter,” Freddie whined.

                “And I the ‘monkey’ one: It’s so cute.”

                “Today we are going to make smiley cookies,” Mom announced.

                Sara turned to Freddie, “Mine’s going to have red ‘lipstick!’”

                “Well, mine will have green, with a green nose to match!”
                “Mine will have orange smile and bright orange cheeks and blue eyes!”

                “You said it would have a red mouth!”

                “I’ll be making two. I’ll be making lots of cookies.” She turned to her mother, “Mommy I can make lots, can’t I?”
                “Sure, and we’ll make them big so that there will be of plenty of room for cheeks and noses—“

                “And freckles!”
                “And glasses!”

                Tracy rolled her eyes. Well we will see how this all works.

                The children were finally convinced to look at books while the cookies were baking, but one or the other kept trouping back to see how the cookies were progressing.

                Sara clapped her hands with glee when the first pan was removed from the oven, but had to be cautioned to wait until they were cooled off slightly before icing them.

                “Otherwise their smiles will get all droopy and their eyes teary!”

                Freddie bit the side of his lip while concentrating on decorating his cookie just so. Sara smeared her ‘smiles’ on with eager enthusiasm, on one cookie after another. For some reason they happened to look up at the same moment to see what Mommy was doing. Both small faces registered surprize.

                “I thought we were making “smiley face’ cookies!” Sara exclaimed. “Yours are all sad.”

                “They’re ‘Frownie Faces!” Freddie accused.

                “I don’t want a “Frownie Face’ cookie!”

                Tracy shrugged her shoulders. “They’ll all taste the same.”

                The children were quieter, a little more subdued as they finished the task, then Mommy said they could each have one, no, two, since it was a special occasion. They both eagerly chose “Happy Face” cookies.

                “Why didn’t you choose one on my ‘Frownie Face’ cookies?” Tracy pretended to be disappointed.

                “We don’t like ‘Frownie Faces’,” Freddie admitted, taking a big bite out of his red faced cookie.

                “I don’t either,” Mommy said softly. “But that’s what I’ve been living with the last while.”

                The children glanced furtively at each other. They knew what she meant.

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I guess I do to. Maybe I have been eating too many ‘Frownie Cookies’ myself, and it was giving me indigestion. The strawberry patch was infested with dandelions and congested with baby runner plants and something had to be done about it. Like as in something major. Only problem is, the tiller needed new blades, and that isn’t on our budget right now. I was rather unhappily digging out the weeds by hand, and transplanting plantlets to newly hand-dug soil.  My mood certainly didn’t match the beautiful spring day so it was high time I did something about it, starting with prayer. It wasn’t long before the Heavenly Father reminded me of all those folks living in high risers and elsewhere who would gladly trade places with me. Think of the bliss on their faces as they munched on the first juicy red strawberry of the season if it was from their own strawberry patch.  Think of the broad expanse of azure sky over my head; think of the bright green grass and ‘pretty’ dandelions (roll eyes here), think of cheery birdsongs and  try to ignore the fact that most of them are raucous magpies; think of the Smiley Face Cookie story and the joy of preparing another post. Think about how good it will be to have a well-deserved nap, and not hear those noisy birds for a while. Ahh, life is good!  Not perfect, although sometimes it comes very close, but very good!