When I come home, oranges and oatmeal are bubbling in the oven, giving off the smell of a frantic sleepless night remembering the bake sale is tomorrow.

Made with love and soft and chewy they cool on the counter, the stress of their creation dissipating into the air with a hint of cinnamon and cloves.

My husband’s mother smiles, as she brushes the hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand and tries not to look harried as she coolly sets another tray down and starts to scrape the cookies off with a spatula.

“How was your day?” turns into a cast-down look as I realize she hasn’t slept since last night and has been baking all morning. Baking for me; and remembering because I forgot.

I smoothly pluck a cookie off the tray and pop it into my mouth, expecting the warm, earthy taste of oatmeal followed by the sweet tinge of orange peel…only to realize underneath its usual flavor, is the sharp, metallic taste of guilt.

About wondrinsoul

Writing what comes to mind helps to make space for new experiences and thoughts to emerge. I am a sponge for knowledge, but every now and then I need to wring myself out so I don't become filled with stagnant, bacteria-filled, regenerated, ping-pong ball like ideas.
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2 Responses to Mother-in-Law

  1. Kavita says:

    Woww… that was something! I was just wondering how it would end… and this was just.. well.. JUST!!! 🙂
    And it’s very very sweet of your MIL … umm… baking you cookies! Me loves the love!!!

    Have a lovely weekend, w!

  2. wondrinsoul says:

    thanks! she is always doing such nice things…she goes against the MIL stereotype for sure…

    wonderful weekend wishes!


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