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Oh, it's on, bitch.

Visited my grandmother at her new assisted-living home. Nice place.

Brought a large box of cookies with me, I'd made them the night before. One batch of good gingersnaps, one batch of okay white chocolate almond. I put them on the kitchen table for anyone that wanted some.

One older woman had a few and wandered off, coming back a little later...

Old woman: "Who made these cookies?"
Me: "Oh, I did. Help yourself."
Old woman: "Oh, I did. They're good."
Me: "Thank you!"
Old woman: "...but not as good as mine."

*mutter, mutter.*

Next time, I'm bringing out the rolled icebox butter cookies of coronary shutdown. If she survives, she'll take that back.

Comments

spottylogic
Jun. 17th, 2008 02:53 pm (UTC)
You're probably right, next time I'll pester her for her secrets :) I'd filed it under "When I am an old woman I shall wear purple, and say whatever I'd enjoy saying."

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