Newmentia is bursting with Christmas cheer. Today we had a band/jazz band concert. Kids are wearing Santa hats, because apparently the NO HATS rule does not apply to Santas. The students in ParkingSpotUsurper's classes baked cookies for the teachers.
I'm thinking that they actually baked cookies for a grade, and were told to bring the leftovers to the teachers. It's the commanded thought that counts.
A young lady approached my lunch table with a plate of four peanut butter cookies and two cream cheese cinnamon-looking squares. She set them down between me and Mr. S. "These are for you," she said, and patted me on the shoulder. I set the plate in the middle of the table, and stated pompously and magnanimously, "I will gladly share."
You don't just go eating student food willy-nilly. But if the make it at school, under the supervision of a parking spot stealer, you probably won't become violently ill upon ingestion. I thought the girl brought that plate for all the teachers, and was just joking about it being for me. What do I need with six cookies? I don't even need one cookie. But I tried the square kind, just to be polite. It was decent.
Then the kids started bringing plates of cookies to other teachers. I took a tiny bite of one of the peanut butter variety on my plate. That was a good move. The tiny bite. I put that cookie down forthwith. "That is really NOT GOOD. The kids were gone, so I didn't have to worry about hurting their feelings.
I couldn't figure out what was wrong with that cookie. First of all, it crumbled. You could hardly pick it up in one piece. Then I thought that maybe they didn't use enough sugar. But it had an aftertaste.
I encouraged other teachers to share in my newfound bounty. "That's terrible. Try it." So LunchBuddy did. She did not have her own plate of cookies. She made the YEECCHHH face. "Something's wrong with that." Indeed.
We persuaded LunchBuddy's Buddy to try it. Another grimace. Then Mr. Principal. He spit it out. "There's too much flour." He passed the plate to Stuart. Stuart took a bigger bite. He looked like a dog after you give it some chewing gum. "I can't get it off the roof of my mouth," he said.
I am very persuasive, it seems. I told them outright that those cookies were not good.