In the social class of cookie loving, I’m the peasant, serf, homeless junkie that sits on the side of the road and chews on his own teeth. I’m a loser. Why?
I. don’t. like. chocolate. chip. cookies. period.
They suck. They’re average. They’re like eating pasta without sauce (actually that’s quite good with butter, salt, and pepper). They’re like the sugar free candies that Grandma Jackie always kept in reach of the kids just to disappoint with their averageness. They’re like getting 89 cents back from a Taco Bell drive in, in pennies. They suck. They’re not good.
You’d think that since cookies are such a grave disappointment, I’d be able to feed my pearly whites with some delicious other treats. Unfortunately, my second least favorite desert is fed nearly as frequently as chocolate chip cookies. Brownies. I’d call them crapnies, but I have to act my age.
Here’s the thing people, chocolate is okay, but cut it out already. For those of us who don’t like that woof fest you call “chocolate chip cookies and brownies”, we have to endure it every time. It’s like going home and finding your fridge filled with prune juice and chilled raisins. That’s it. That’s all you’re eating. Ever.
In a perfect world deserts would be as diversely appreciated as the peoples of the earth. Chocolate supremacy would be looked down upon because, frankly, it’s kind of demeaning. We’d have strawberry appreciation month. We’d learn about the history of the Mother’s pink and white sprinkled animal cookie in our grade schools. I’d vote for affirmative dessert action, so that I could munch a parfait or even the occasional Tiramisu. But it’s not that way. As it stands, our world is ruthlessly racist against non-chocolate and no one cares if we speak up our voice.
Take notes, friends and family. I don’t like chocolate. I don’t ask for much. I don’t even want gifts this Christmas. Just a nummy nummy dessert that’s not chocolate or maybe some skittles in my Christmas stocking would be nice. Try to have a little open-mindedness for the rest of us.
edit: I’m looking back on this admonition I extended to my family. It turns out, my stocking was full of chocolate. Thanks Santa.