Monday, October 8, 2012

I am Joe: Thoughts of a Special VP - Cookies

I am Joe
Today nanny told me and Sasha and Maila that she was not going to make our beds anymore.  We are old enough to make our own beds.  She said she would give us each a cookie if we made our own beds.
Sasha and Maila told me if I made their beds I could have their cookies too.  Yea!
Nanny told me good job and gave me one-two-three cookies. I was so excited I ran to boss to show him my cookies.

But boss was sad.  He told me that is too many cookies for me to have myself.  Sometimes we can have too many cookies.  At some point we have enough cookies.  Sasha and Maila don’t have any cookies.  Is it fair for you to have all those cookies and Sasha and Maila to not have any cookies?  Isn’t it good to share?  You don’t want to be selfish like Mitt, do you?  Here, let me take two of those cookies for Sasha and Maila.  Isn’t that nice?
I tried to tell boss I did work for these cookies, but Sasha and Maila just crunched the cookies and smiled at me.  I left fast before they eated their cookies all gone and boss would make me share mine again.
Then Missus Boss saw me.  Is that a cookie, she said.  You don’t want that.  It will make you sick and fat.  You don’t want to die young, do you?  Let me take that from you.  Here is a celery with non-fat cheese whiz.  Isn’t that much better?  Before I could tell to her I did work for my cookie and Sasha and Maila already eated their cookies and did not die, Missus Boss walked away and eated my cookie.
I licked the orange goo on the celery.  Blech!  It tasted like my foot.  I know how my foot tastes.  It is in my mouth most of the time.  I buried the celery in the sandbox.  I am never going to make my own bed again.

1 comment:

  1. I love this metaphor. Reminds me of Reagan's version of The Little Red Hen.