Thanks to the Onyx Plate’s blog mentioning a cookie jar, I remember one very special aspect of being at Poppy’s house- his cookie jar.
In this day and age, cookie jars often seem to be antiquated and something relegated to the past. Who seriously using cookie jars except for older people?
Well, THIS blogger right here would definitely us a cookie jar if he had one, so there. How’s that for my defiance of modernity in the name of nostalgia?
Poppy’s cookie jar was the big compromise between age-old cookie jars that required the strength of an adult to lift the lid and the complete and utter lack of cookie jars, period. His cookie jar was a cow!
But it wasn’t just any cow- the cow mooed.
The cow mooed loudly.
If you were going to get a cookie, you would also be alerting the entire household that you were getting a cookie. This was the catch. The cow was not merciful. The cow did not care if you were trying to be quiet. The cow did not care if you thought you could attempt to be a ninja and sneakily open the cookie jar to get sweets. He was going to moo for a long time.
In the presence of the cookie jar cow, there was no being a ninja. Your ninja skills were defeated every time.
The cow was vigilant over his cookies.
His head was easy enough to lift, as opposed to ceramic cookie jars that weigh something like 11 tons. But oh, the moo-cries…!
I think I’ll try to figure out a softer-sounding animal that alerts people of cookie thievery as opposed the screaming moos of the cookie-guarding cow.
Recently, my readers have told me of various happenings at Poppy’s house about which I have no experience or knowledge. One thing mentioned is the old-time coffee pot that would sit on the stove. By the time I came along and was old enough to drink coffee, Poppy had a modern electric coffee pot, a percolator like the one we had my house. I may have seen the old-time coffee pot, but Poppy never used it when I was a kid.
Don’t forget to read about my breakfast of bacon and coffee at Poppy’s.