Cooky Love

I have just spent two and a half hours trying to write an email. In the end I wrote an 15 page document and attached it to a 2 paragraph email. The problem was that I couldn’t send back the response, via email, that I really wanted to.

Thanks for your inquiry. What you have done is the logical equivalent of walking into a car dealership and announcing you want to buy a car. When the salesperson asked you what kind of car you wanted to buy, you said ‘a blue one’.

So, let’s start at the beginning. Are you looking for a semi-truck or a micro-compact? Are you looking to buy a Toyota Yaris with roll down windows, or a Gumpert Apollo, which also has roll down windows, but the half a million dollar difference in price might make you pause.

No, instead I had to write a sensible response to a nonsensical question, and let me tell you, it’s very hard to help someone, if they don’t tell you what kind of a help they may be looking for.

Anyway, at the end of the night, as I write this blog, I am thinking about all of the things that have gone well.

Chief among them is the email I got from my other half about the cookies.

About a month ago, Mr. Spit decided he wanted to learn to bake cookies. Now, as a general rule, I am supportive of just about anything that Mr. Spit wants to do, but this in particular struck me as the sort of skill that could have amazing payoffs for me he could be really proud of. Mr. Spit has found a blog and he has been baking his way through it.

Tonight, I got a picture. It was my favourite chocolate bar, and the cookies he made with it.

However sucky it is to spend your night in a hotel, trying to cover every possible scenario, it isn’t that sucky when someone is making you cookies at home.

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1 Response to Cooky Love

  1. debby says:

    There’s some profound wisdom in that, Mrs. Spit.

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