Countdown

Reuben stared at the chocolate crinkle cookie he’d just plucked from the cooling rack, its sugary cracks practically begging to be tasted. He wanted to gib it to his mom—he really did (in efforts to be the faborite child) but then the smell hit him—a rich, chocolatey aroma that felt like a warm hug for his taste buds. “I’ll just make sure it’s not poisonous,” he reasoned, taking the tiniest nibble. The nibble turned into a bite, and the bite into a full mouthful. Now holding a sad crescent of what used to be a cookie, Reuben panicked and slapped another one onto the plate, hoping she wouldn’t notice it was slightly smaller than the others. After all, it’s the thought (and definitely not the missing bite) that counts, right??