I Do It All For The Cookie

Dear friends,

We are rapidly approaching the changing of the year; a time filled with optimism and joy; that precious time of year when it becomes chic to make false promises to ourselves, rather than just other people. With the impending New Year staggering towards our door, I feel the time is right for forthcoming confession, so that I may enter the next year with a clean conscience.
I have often expounded on the many benefits of my job; flexible hours, a nice amount of vacation time, the great reward of seeing my students succeed, etc. These are all things that I enjoy about my job... but the fact is, friends, there is one benefit that overshadows them all. Truth be told, when the rubber meets the road.... I do it all for the cookie.

The greatest fringe benefit of my job is that, at this time of year, I find myself awash in a flood of cut-out cookies, chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter cookies, and many cookies of a variety that previously, I had never even heard of. Little did I know when I started this job, that there is a clause in every parent's contract that states, "If a person, or persons, assists with any instructional or recreational activities pertaining to your child, they shall be amply rewarded baked goods at Christmas".

Some people measure their wealth in 401k plans and stock options; I measure mine in cookies, toffee, and snicker doodles; and let me tell you, at this time of year, I'm a wealthy man.

In unrelated news, I did some shopping last night. What is my style of shopping, you ask? Very haphazard. I sort of go into a store with no idea of what I'm looking for, and then wander around blindly until I've found exactly what I wasn't looking for.

It was during this wandering that I came across the jeans section, and was a bit surprised when half of them that I saw were low rise models. This fervently begs the question; why in the heck do I need low rise jeans when I can't buy tops that show off my midriff anyway? I didn't see any one-size-too-small halter tops anywhere in the men's department, so what the heck?

This also leads to another question, Ladies; when, if ever, do you feel the need to see a big piece of "mandriff"? You can be completely honest with your answers, because they will not be disseminated among the public. I'm just curious, because in my personal experience, any glimpse of my "mandriff" that I happen to give out unintentionally (when yawning, for example), just seems to provoke giggles rather than admiration.

In related news, I am pleased to announce that I no longer take the longest inseam for jeans available at Kohl's. I spotted a swath of "38s last night, meaning that I no longer have to go in saying, "Show me the longest pants you've got." Hurrah!

Regards,

Peter