The world is your oyster!: Cookies and Karma        
 
                 
     
       

These are a few of my favorite things:

summertime
pina-colada flavored italian ice
ribbons
sisters
i.n.s.t.a.n.t...o.a.t.m.e.a.l.
dance parties
pearls
flamingos
America
missionaries
s.u.n.g.l.a.s.s.e.s.
playgrounds
dressing up
love :)
     
       

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My name is Heather.

I am 22 years old.

I am an East Coast girl
who also loves Utah.

I love my life. How could I not?

The world is my oyster :)
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mannnnhole.

The World is your Oyster

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Thursday, June 14, 2012

Cookies and Karma

I've heard that when you come back home after an extended absence, no matter what you learned while you were living by yourself, you fall back into the same habits you were in at the time that you first left home.

For example, if you always slept in, and expected your mom to wake you up, you might start doing that again. Even if you had a 6:00 AM custodial job while you were gone. If you used to bicker constantly with your siblings, you might find yourself getting frustrated by everything they do. Etc.

Now, I've never been someone who bickers constantly with my siblings, but I have to admit that I have felt my maturity sliding backwards ever since coming home. Also, I am perfectly capable of feeding myself while at college, but for some reason, when I come home, it is so hard to get up and get myself a snack. I usually just get one of my siblings to do it for me.

Just yesterday, I was working on a school project that was due in a matter of hours. One of my sisters was looking at facebook and tumblr and YouTube, "prepping" herself for the crushing disappointment she had come to associate with job-hunting before she jumped back into the fray of online applications. My tomach rumbled. I made a little plea for some food. Sister refused to help. This cycle repeated itself several times.

......An hour later, I got up and got myself some food.

A few hours after that, Sister and I had both relocated to her room upstairs. By this time, my project was due in 45 minutes. Sister was hanging up clothes. There was a knock on the door. Sister and I both ignored it, hoping the other would get it. The knocker continued knocking insistently.

"Sister??" I asked incredulously, as if my supremely granted right to lounge about at all times somehow took precedence over hers.

"It's probably a salesman anyway," she said.

The knocking was way too quick and little-fisted to be a salesman. She knew it as well as I did.

"Sister! That is obviously not a salesman! Why are you being such a brat!" I stomped out of the room and ran down the stairs, where someone was still knocking. Sister slammed the bedroom door after me.

It was not a salesman who was knocking (thank goodness, since I still hadn't put on my makeup). It was a little boy from across the street who had borrowed a cup of sugar from us earlier to make cookies. Now he stood on our porch, holding a plate of cookies.

"Neighbor!" I greeted him. "Did you make these?" He nodded. He looked a little confused. I think he didn't recognize me, since I'm usually at college, and he was worried he had gotten the wrong house. But then I called him by name and he got even more confused.

"They look great!" I said. He handed me the plate, nodding. I noticed the marshmallows and chunks of Hershey's chocolate on top of the cookies. "Are they s'mores cookies?" I asked. He nodded, eyes wide. "You did a good job," I said, smiling. He nodded. "I can't wait to taste them!"

He nodded. "Okay, well.....see ya later!" I said. He nodded and continued standing there. "Alright thanks!" I said, and backed up a little. He started to turn around so I slowly closed the door and brought the cookies to the kitchen.

"Karmaaaa!" sang a little voice in my head. "I am getting what I deserve," I told myself smugly. "Sister doesn't get a cookie because she was too lazy to answer the door."

I took a cookie and bit into it. I danced around the kitchen a little. "I'm going to finish this here," I decided, "and when Sister asks who was at the door, I'm going to tell her. And she'll have to come downstairs and get her own cookie."

I had barely taken my third bite when my feet started carrying me to the stairs. A better plan was forming. I would take my cookie up there and eat it in front of her. And then I would probably get some crumbs in her bed, and everyone hates crumbs in their bed.

Wouldn't you know it, I tripped on the first step. My cookie landed on the stair, marshmallow-side-up.

"Karmaaaaa!" sang a little voice in my head. "I am getting what I deserve," I thought sadly.

So Sister got a cookie, too. And no one got crumbs in anyone else's bed. And I turned my project in on time. And I'm pretty sure Sister is going to get an awesome amazing job, so it looks like everything works out in the end, all pettiness aside.

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