I was sitting at a table after church, enjoying a post-sermon meal, and having fun watching the pastors son devour a chocolate chip cookie. I asked him if it was good and he said "yeah".
"How good? Like, on a scale from 1 to 10, ten being the best ever, how good?"
He had dark smudges lining the corners of his mouth. He looked up, cocked his head to the side and said "8".
"8? What would make it a 10?" I asked.
I thought he was going to say they needed to be softer, or warm, or accompanied with milk. I was sure he would, in some form, want to improve upon the cookie itself.
But without stopping to give my question a second thought he put down his dessert, looked me straight in the eye, smiled dark-teeth and all, and said "if my mom made 'em."
Sunday, July 26, 2009
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