On Monday evening, at approximately 9pm, a crime was committed in our kitchen.
The homemade chocolate chip cookie which had been carefully wrapped in foil and placed on the side ready for No 1 Son when he came home from school the following day was demolished.
Not even a crumb remained.
Yesterday when No 1 Son came home from school I made him a ham and cheese toastie. When he’d finished devouring this he took his plate into the kitchen. And then came the question: ‘Mum, what happened to the cookie?’
At this point I could have lied. I could have said the dog ate it. Or it accidentally fell on the floor. But overcome with remorse I did the decent thing and ‘fessed up.
To which No 1 Son shook his head, sighed, and walked out of the room.
How do you control your inner Cookie Monster? I’d love to know. Because apparently I have no willpower whatsoever.