Highschool Lovers

a cookie conundrum

It's a typical evening in our bustling household. I'm stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove, and the delicious aroma is weaving through the air, fighting for supremacy against the cacophony of toddler tantrums erupting from the living room.

"Mama," Mia pleas as she wiggles in her chair, her big green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Can I have a cookie? Pleeeease?"

"Mia, sweetie, I'm making dinner right now," I reply, stirring the sauce briskly, glancing at her through the corner of my eye. She has a way of softening my heart with those innocent eyes.

"But I'm really hungry! Just one cookie?" She scrunches her face, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Okay, since you've been so good about everything else," I relent, knowing full well that one cookie won't dent her appetite for dinner. "But just one!"

"I love cookies! You're the best, Mama!" Mia beams, hopping off her stool like a little deer.

From the living room, chaos ensues as Charlie and Chandler, my two-year-old twins, are locked in a battle against their favorite iPads.

"No, Chawie! No!" Chandler screams, her tiny hands gripping the device as if her life depends on it.

"Mine, Channy!" Charlie retaliates, his voice rising in pitch.

"Adrien, could you—?" I start, but before I can finish, Adrien appears in the doorway, a mixture of frustration and determination on his face.

"Alright, kiddos, it's time to share!" he declares heroically, stepping toward them. But the twins are having none of it.

"No! NOOO!" they scream in unison.

"Mama, help!" Charlie cries, still clutching his iPad.

"Mama saves the day!" Mia shouts, now juggling her cookie as she twirls and dances around me, her ponytails bouncing with each move.

"Mama, look!" she adds, trying to twerk like she's seen on TV, her little body wiggling with abandon, cookie crumbs flying everywhere.

"More cookies, Mama! I dance!" she giggles, her words coming out in surprisingly jumbled sentences.

"Mia, sweetheart, you can't have more cookies unless you—"

"Chawie! Channy! Mama's making spaghetti! Come dance!" she calls, completely ignoring my plea, while her cookie disappears bit by bit.

The twins don't budge; they're still absorbed in their screens, swatting away Adrien's gentle attempts to pull those devices from their vice-like grips.

"Are we really doing this again?" Adrien asks, fingers raking through his blonde hair in exasperation.

"They're the best!" Mia chants while doing an exaggerated dance move, her twerking morphing into an impromptu twirl. "Cookie dance! Cookie dance!"

"You're the best dancer!" I laugh, shaking my head. She beams back at me, and her joy is contagious.

"More cookie! Cookie twirling!" she continues, dancing around the kitchen as if it were her stage.

"Mama, NO!" Charlie wails from his spot, half-heartedly clawing at Adrien's hands as if he could magically reclaim his iPad.

"Mama, cook!" Chandler adds, finally looking up and blinking her big green eyes at me.

"Yes, honey, and it smells delicious!" I assure her, patiently stirring the sauce while keeping an eye on the cookie thief.

"Mama?" Mia says, her mouth full of cookie. "Can I have...another...cookie when dinner is ready?"

I can't help but laugh. "We'll see, my little cookie monster. But for now, save some for dinner time!"

"Okay!" she chirps, stealing the last crumb of her cookie.

"Why couldn't you be this easy?" Adrien jokes, looking down at the warriors of chaos in the living room as they momentarily calm, either perplexed by Mia's antics or simply taking a cookie break of their own.

"I'm winning this round," I cheerfully declare, stirring the sauce with renewed energy as Mia pirouettes and the twins share curious glances.

Dinner is still a whirlwind waiting to happen, but for now, in these fleeting moments, laughter and dancing fill the kitchen—one cookie at a time.