There came a day in the first month of the year,
the 3rd week of the month,
the last day of the week
that the dwelling place of the tribe of Eric
was in a disorderly state of affair.
The Mother of the tribe rose up early
to begin the task at hand.
Or maybe it was that she just arose when the young child cried
and procrastinated a few hours before beginning the task.
Never the less, she had a mind to work,
and work she finally did, for things were fairly flying.
As she spun herself in circles, the son of Eric spoke.
“Mother, we are in need of freshly baked cookies!”
Hoping to dissuade her only son she replied,
“Son, there are many cookies residing downstairs
in the depths of the freezer.
Take yourself down and fetch me a box, please.”
But he obeyed her not, only answering her command with,
“Mother, the cookies of which you speak
are not the cookies I desire.
My heart longs for cookies with many chips of chocolate,
soft and gooey, that they may melt in my mouth.”
The Mother of the tribe dropped her dust rag,
thought long and hard of her reply, and in her sweetest voice cooed,
“Son, would it please you if we would bake a pan of bars,
all gooey with chocolate, soft and melty, just like cookies.”
For this mother knew in her heart that baking bars
was so much easier then scooping cookie dough.
Yet once again her son quickly and firmly replied,
“No Mother, cookies it must be and cookies it will be,
all soft and gooey with chips that melt in your mouth!”
So the Mother, seeing the futility of the fight,
gave up the battle, for she knew in her heart that they did indeed
need chocolate chip cookies, all warm and gooey.
She did indeed feel a bit contrite you might say,
for it had been many, many moons since she had baked
chocolate chip cookies for the son.
And so, dropping the cleaning rags of which we spoke,
they began to bake the cookies.
Oh, the mixing, the dumping, the pouring and such,
of the mess, one can only imagine if one has small helpers.
First upon the tray were place small heaps of dough,
all gooey and lovely with nary a chip in sight.
The son stared wide eyed and in an astounded voice cried,
“Mother, where are the chips for which I long?”
“Oh son,” she answered, “These are my cookies,
mine and your father’s, for you see,
cookies without chips are the best kind of cookies!”
Shaking his head he disagreeably stated,
“Only cookies with chips are the bestest,
we must need put chips in the rest.”
Baking continued and soon it was that they added chips and more chips,
licked the dough, scooped some more, baked them up,
and the children of the tribe of Eric were happy indeed.
The Mother of the tribe was surprised at how quickly she was done.
8 dozen lay in rows with only one or two missing occasionally.
The son of the tribe looked them over,
sized them up and down and around,
carefully checking the tops and the bottoms
for that one cookie with the mostest chips
that would be all goey and melt in your mouth.
He must have found quite a few perfect ones
for more then one was consumed that day.
As for the chipless ones,
the Mother was happy with only a few
for her and the father of the tribe.
The less desirable they appear,
the fewer consumed to stick around with her forever.
Easy Chocolate Chip Cookies
2 C butter
1 1/2 C White Sugar
1 1/2 C Brown Sugar
2 tsp Soda
2 tsp Salt
2 tsp Vanilla
2/3 C Instant vanilla pudding (or 1 box)
5 C flour
16oz Chocolate chips
Bake 8-9 min @ 375