Cookies, Anyone?

This is a little story that one can read to a child:

Cole Hunter ran to his house as fast as he could.  He beat his brother, Nate, home yet again, but was he tired!  Cole’s mother stopped to look at him as his rumpled shirt moved with the rhythm of his fast breathing.  She reached over and ruffled his unruly, black hair. 

“Leave your brother in the dust, again, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” replied Cole as he reached for a glass; he was aiming to pour ice-cold milk into it, when his mother tilted his freckled face to meet her gaze.

“Cole, are you forgetting something?” his mother asked.

Cole glanced around and asked, “Oh, yeah, where are the chocolate chip cookies you promised to make us?”

Just then, a squeaky voice was heard on the other side of the kitchen door.  “Hey, let me in!”

As Mrs. Hunter opened the door, an avalanche of papers tumbled onto the floor, along with a boy who looked like a smaller version of Cole, except this boy had brown hair and wore wire-rimmed glasses. 

“Oh, Nate, did you carry all these things home, yourself?” his mother asked with a sigh.  She turned to look back at Cole, and scolded him: “How many times have I asked you to carry your own papers home from school? “

“Nate lost a bet, so he had to carry our stuff home,” replied Cole, who was by this time pouring milk into his blue-tinged glass.

Mrs. Hunter held her tongue; she wanted to scold Cole, but remembered her plan, and thought better of it.  “I’ve got those chocolate chip cookies waiting, so why not wash your hands, first?”

The boys ran out of the kitchen, leaving the mound of school papers, which had been placed on the kitchen table, behind.  Mrs. Hunter saw a certain paper which caught her eye.  At the top of one of Cole’s test papers, a big, red “F” was staring up at the boys’ mother.  Also on the paper, the teacher wrote, “Cole, you did not follow directions. Please have your Mother sign and return this test to me.”  Mrs. Hunter thought to herself, “I hope this plan of mine works.”

Mrs. Hunter’s thoughts were dashed by water hitting her face.  Cole bounded back into the kitchen, wet hands waving in the air, shouting, “Where are the cookies?”

Cole’s mother cheerily held a plateful of cookies towards Cole’s awaiting grasp.  “Here, chocolate chip cookies just for you,” and added with a smile, “I hope you enjoy them!”

Cole looked at the cookies, and frowned.  “Hey!  Where are the chocolate chips!  You can’t have chocolate chip cookies without chocolate chips!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cole’s mother smiled slyly.

Cole held up the chocolate chip cookie that was missing all of the chips, then split it in half as he said, “Mom, every chocolate chip cookie has to have chocolate chips; where are they?  Why did you do this?  Don’t you have a recipe?”

“Oh, recipes are the same as directions; who needs to follow silly old directions, anyway?” replied Mrs. Hunter.  “Besides, I wanted to do it my way.  What’s the big deal if I don’t follow directions?” she added.

“But Mom,” Cole stated, “if you don’t follow the instructions, how do expect to get it right?

Mom gave Cole a serious look and said, “The same way that you don’t get things right when you don’t follow instructions,” as she held the latest test with an “F” scrawled across the top.

Cole looked down at the cookie.  He was silent for a minute.  “You know, Mom, I think you’ve got a point, there.  Boy, I’ve been trying to do things my way for a long time.  I haven’t listened to the teachers, and I haven’t listened to you.  A life filled with not obeying is like a chocolate chip cookie without the chips – the best parts of it all get lost!  I’m so sorry, Mom, and I promise – I’ll try to do better from now on.”

Mrs. Hunter smiled and hugged her son. “I’m so glad you understand.”  As Nate made his way into the kitchen, she reached into the cookie jar, and pulled out two cookies chocked-full of chocolate chips.  “I think you two would like one of these.”

“Wow, life sure is better when you follow the directions!” Cole stated as he munched on the cookies.

“Thanks!” both boys exclaimed.

Mrs. Hunter smiled as she watched the boys scurry away.  “Thank, you,” she whispered softly.