The Problem with Cookies

Yesterday was a bit of a crazy day, with Riley sick with Bronchitis these last few days and miserable from the cough, not going outside, and the meds, Carson was at a Birthday Party for a classmate, and Margo was just Margo - almost three, challenging authority at every turn, and doing her level best to make her sick brother cry.  The younger two also had haircuts at 4:00 pm, which means 5:00pm, in reality.  Which coincided with picking Carson up from the party several kilometers out of town.  Needless to say, we ate supper really late (for us), and the children were in bed late.  Margo takes a lot of extra time to wind down when she is over-tired, and so I sang her songs and cuddled her, then left the room for a bit.  I went back in to sing one more song, and as I sat down on her bed, she turns over to face me, and whispers very solemnly, "Mom, Momma, I have a problem."

"Oh?  What problem do you have, baby?"

"My problem is... My problem is that there are no more cookies left in the house."  Still so sadly, and solemnly. 

"Well, I think that we can fix that tomorrow.  I can make some cookies.  Would you like to help me?"

"No, Momma, you can just do it by your own self. Okay?"

"Hmmm, OK, then.  It's time for the very last song and to go to sleep now. Understand?"

"OK, Momma," delivered with a jaw-cracking yawn. 

And she was out while I sang Baa Baa Black/Green/Purple Sheep.

Now, excuse me.  I need to go make those cookies...