To Mr. Cookie

Dear Mr. Cookie;

I am writing you to respectfully request that you keep outside of the 500 foot radius my inner nutritionist has placed between you and me. It has come to my attention recently that no matter what sort of restrictions we put upon you, you have no regard for rules and you always show up where you are not wanted. This is a serious matter, Mr. Cookie and no matter what disguise you try to use; be it chocolate chip, peanut butter, those amazing crispy oatmeal raisin ones my mom makes at Christmas or the sugar covered with finger licking good frosting kind, you will one day be destroyed and banned from my world.

For example, I went to the bank today to deposit a well earned check into my account and when the deposit slip was returned to me, there you were; wrapped in paper and sealed with a big yellow smiley face sticker. All the while emitting that chocolatey smell you use to lure unsuspecting weak willed individuals like myself into your den of fat filled, sugar laced doom. For the safety of those around me, I had no choice but to take you into my car and dispose of you properly at once.

And even as recently as this past Tuesday, as I tried to avoid your presence by leaving the office five minutes before your arrival with the sales rep who thinks that we will cave to her demands by offering us your delicious roundness, you found a way to remain in the office; untouched, ignored and waiting. Waiting for me and my low carb, anti sugar attitude to come back and find you alone and begging to be consumed. What was I to do? You know it's in my nature to make every environment as safe as humanly possible for those I love. I, once again, was forced to get rid of you and all of your remaining crumbs- sacrificing myself so that I may save others from you and your diabetic agenda.

Please- for the good of me, my waist line, my pancreas, my mental health, and those that have to deal with my sugar crashes, find someone else to pick on. I am tired of your threats, the creepy way you just lay there and don't say anything forcing me to take action before something bad happens and the way you've made me so incredibly fat and lumpy. It's ALL your fault.

Get out of my life, Mr. Cookie- or I will be forced to...um....Jesus. You know I don't have the power. Just get out and stay out.

Sincerely,
Sarafina