My Dad, the Cookie Monster

AS MY FATHER grew older, he grew more frugal, and I noticed he didn't indulge himself as often as I thought he should.

- Andy Simmons

He would make one scoop of ice cream last as long as two. And, please, hold the sprinkles. That was a cost he could do without. So one day, as we walked through the cookie aisle at the drugstore, I suggested we pick up a box of shortbread cookies, his favorite.

“My treat,” I said.

“If you wanna get some, sure,” he said.

“I just know that you like them,” I said.

“Oh, I love them.”

“They're right here. I'll grab a box.”

As I reached down for a box ... “Actually, your mother gets these other cookies, Nadine's.”

“Nadine's? I never heard of them.”

“Oh, they're great. They taste a little like shortbread, but more cookie-ish.”

“Well, let’s get those instead.” I walk down the cookie aisle, scanning right and left.

“OK, but don’t go crazy looking, it’s not like I need them.” He patted his belly. “They should be around here, though.”

“I don’t see them.”

“You know what? Forget about it.”

“I see Oreo cookies, Nilla Wafers, Sandies, Fig Newtons …”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t mind looking around.”