"Oreos? I have Oreos."
"No, Mom. Remember, I HAVE Oreos, that I bought to bake an Oreo Cake to take for Christmas Eve, but I ran out of time and couldn't make it."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot. But I still have those Oreos. A whole pack, and another half pack left over from the cakes I made."
"What? We have OREOS? I would eat Oreos."
"I told you all about them. After I gave you that baggie of halves left over from decorating the top and around the cakes."
"You didn't tell me!"
"Yes. I DID. Why would I want to keep Oreos secret? I hate Oreos. And I don't want to waste them. I always tell you about the leftovers. They're in the pantry, because I had to clean off the counter to set the Christmas Day food on there."
"I would have taken those Oreos to my store! To snack on them."
"You still can. If the mice don't get them first! Or maybe you can put them in your non-working mini-fridge."
"I put stuff like that in my microwave!"
Anyhoo... I guess I'll set out the Oreos so Farmer H can SEE them, and not forget about them, and accuse me of withholding Oreos.
2 comments:
I tried Oreos once, didn't even finish the one biscuit (cookie), I just didn't like the taste and texture. I hope Farmer H remembers to look for them on the counter.
River,
I have never liked Oreos. Not even the creme filling. The only way I can tolerate them is to dip the edge in milk until they are soft. I also hate milk! Somehow they work together, once every couple of years, when I don't want to waste the leftover Oreos from baking the cakes.
Farmer H will remember if I set the Oreos with the bag he uses to take his lunch sandwich to his SUS2.5 on the weekend.
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