C is for Cookie

I was in Target this afternoon, perusing some crackers, when a package of Mother's Cookies caught my eye! The delicious, glorious, Vanilla Creme Sandwich Cookies, to be specific.

Now, I'm not really a fan of sweets, and it's been years since I willingly purchased cookies, candy, or dessert of any kind. As a child, however, my palate accepted a greater quantity of sugar than it does now, with Mother's Cookies being among the preferred varieties.

Since stores don't carry them back east, I assume that my attachment to these cookies began on one of my many trips out to Southern California. I used to inhale these things in a way that can't possibly have been healthy.

I don't particularly remember what it was about the taste of these cookies that set them apart from the infinite number of creme sandwich cookies that inundate grocery aisles, but whatever it was, I loved it.

And despite my lack of desire for sweets, I stood in the aisle at Target, drooling over a combination of yearning and nostalgia.

One of the difficulties in moving to a new location can be the absence of things and places that you enjoy. For instance, I desperately miss Dunkin' Donuts. Try as it might, Starbucks' coffee just isn't the same, although their establishment has the benefit of free Wireless. I also occasionally crave bagels from my hometown's bagel shop and the prevalence of diners.

It should go without saying that I also miss the luxury of having someone pump my gas for me.

But seeing the cookies this afternoon reminded me that every location has their own joys to offer, with California's ranging from Soup Plantation, to an abundance of hiking trails. Oh, and the weather.

And I can't wait to discover more.

* The name of this post can be attributed to this song, which is a blast from the past of its own. I am only moderately ashamed to admit that I still remember all the words.