Cookie Cutter, Cookie Cutter, Cookie Cutter, Rolling Pin

When I was a child

And I didn’t want

To go to bed

My mom would have me

Lay down

On top of the island

In the kitchen

And she would say--

‘Who doesn’t want

To go to bed?’

And I would say--

‘Me. It’s me.

I don’t want

To go to bed’

And my mother

Patient as a saint

Would say--

‘Why don’t you want

To go to bed?’

And I would say

Already giggling

At what I knew

Was coming--

‘Because before

I can go to bed

I need to make

Some cookies’

My mother would

Clap her hands together

Dramatically

And say--

‘Well then, let’s get baking!’

She would then

Begin to bake

An imaginary batch

Of cookies

And while she was baking

She would come over to me

Laying on my stomach

On the kitchen island

And on my back

She would pat, pat, pat

Saying--

‘Cookie cutter, cookie cutter

Cookie cutter, rolling pin!’

And on ‘rolling pin’

She would run her hands

Down my back

And I would laugh

Because I was a very ticklish child

And my mother would laugh

And then she’d go back

To pretending

To get the flour out of the cupboard

And the sugar

And the chocolate chips

But when I least expected it

She would come back over

And once again--

‘Cookie cutter, cookie cutter,

Cookie cutter, ROLLING PIN!’

Laughter until I thought

I was going to pass out

And after about ten minutes of this

My mother would clap her hands again

And say--

‘I think this is a very good batch

Of cookies that we’ve made tonight

Don’t you?’

And I would jump down

Off the kitchen island

And agree with her

That was my bedtime routine

A year ago

My daughter

Was at my mom’s house

For a sleep-over

And when I dropped her off

She hugged my mom

And said--

‘Grandma, tonight,

Can we do “Cookie cutter--”’

And I found myself

Saying the words

Along with her

My mother sent a smile

Across the room at me

Then told my daughter

They could make cookies

Right before bed

But first

They were going

To watch a movie

And my daughter ran off

To change into her pajamas

I hadn’t remembered

Cookie Cutter, Cookie Cutter

Until just that moment

And I felt a tinge of sadness

That I was now too old

To climb up on the kitchen island

But as I was hugging

My mother goodbye

She ran her hands

Down my back

And yelled ‘Rolling pin!’

And I laughed a way I hadn’t

In a very

Long

Time