After all of our trauma on Friday, I just assumed that Becca wouldn't be getting her cookie. I assumed wrong. As soon as we got home from our wickedly long drive back, the first thing out of little Becca's mouth was, "Where's my cookie?" Of course. We just drove for four hours and got stuck behind an accident because of your stupid cookie, but before you know it Mom is off to Hy-Vee. Becca is now happily enjoying her cookie. She is so freakishly protective of it, she didn't even want me to take a picture of it. It might "ruin" it.
I don't really think Becca needs that cookie. I mean she obviously has more than enough sugar and energy for three kids. And come on, look at it. That monster has at least two inches thick of frosting in it. As my mom calls it, "A frosting sandwich." As I call it, "A heart attack between two cookies." Becca calls it her little frosting baby. You have to admit though, its a pretty cute cookie.
AAAHH!!! I'm being eaten alive! I'm too cute to die!!