My Wacky Sister, God love her, loves my kids. Loves, loves, adores, wants to gobble them up. And love, of course, means bringing them those gawdawful pink and white frosted animal cookies when she babysits.

I have developed a huge addiction to these little monsters. They’re like crack cocaine. The sprinkles! The frosting! Two kinds! Gimme another bag, would you? Apparently I’m not the only one. See?

Here is yesterday’s e conversation about them, with Wacky Cousin (we’d also been talking about her morning sickness, do any foods sound good now, etc. Her bebe is growing along just fine, I am pleased to report):

“Those cookies are gross! Jesus. I ate 5 for dessert. After breakfast. You don’t eat dessert with breakfast, it’s a rule. No Dessert Just Cuz You Ate Your Breakfast.”

Her advice? Perfect, as always. She should be writing the advice column around here: “Um. Your rules seem to have changed. But that’s okay, too. However! Everyone deserves dessert cuz they ate their breakfast. It is the most important meal of the day, and if they ate it, that’s good. And yes, almost everything sounds good, except clams. They smell like pee. But whatever is good because, really, I can’t make up my mind. Ever. About anything. And those cookies are NOT gross. They are good, and probably good for you, because those animal cookies are good for you, and sprinkles don’t even count. So, just the frosting is left and it has to be good for you cuz it’s pink and white. Those are good for you colors. Ok, not white, but pink means fruit. And fruit is good for you, so just don’t eat the white ones, and you are good.
Love you.”

OMG. Sounds like she has that pregnancy amnesia I remember so fondly. Although I couldn’t remember anything at the time. Sheesh. Off to the kitchen. I think there may be a handful of cookies left.