Crushed Oreos

The dirt pudding recipe called for a package of crushed Oreos. Esther took the package outside to the garage and grabbed the hammer. Our garage there in our off-base house in Tzuzu, Japan was a narrow concrete-floored area, covered with an awning and squeezed between our house and our neighbors’ (not the shoe-throwing neighbor, the one on the other side of us). Pouring the cookies into a bag, she started hammering away, thud, thud, thud. After a few blows, the bag ripped open and six cookies fell out onto the floor. Rats! She had wasted the cookies. Esther picked them up, tossed them into a cardboard box next to her and went on hammering.

The box needed to be thrown away anyway, so she planned to toss it into the trashcan after she finished making the dirt pudding. She closed the flaps of the box and put it on the steps of the back door. After she was inside and mixing whipped cream and chocolate pudding together, however, she promptly forgot all about it.

Our neighborhood got really dark at night. If you stepped into garage after sunset, it was as pitch dark as a stack of black cats. Micah threw open the back door, intending to just run out in his sock feet to get wire cutters from the work bench. As he stepped on the first step, he felt jaws close around his ankle and clamp tight. He kicked his foot, trying to get loose but the jaws held tight. Something was rattling around his foot inside the mouth of whatever it was. As his foot came down, it slid on the smooth concrete and almost sent him to the floor completely. Where was that light? He couldn’t see a thing. He kicked again and felt the stuff rattle, he lost his balance and fell against the work table. Calm, keep calm. Where was that light? He groped for the switch and finally found it.

He stared down at a battered cardboard box with the flaps holding it tight to his foot. He sat down and pulled it off. OREOS?? That was what had been rattling around his foot. What in the world was a cardboard box with six Oreos doing on the back steps? Quickly Micah stepped inside the back door. “ESTHER!! Are these yours?”

Esther came out of the living room, a little surprised at Micah’s angry tone. “Oh, yeah. Thanks. I guess I forgot it.”

“Forgot it? Don’t EVER put something like that on the steps!”

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Amendment from Micah: Esther didn’t really forget it. The younger kids were always putting whatever they couldn’t think of a place for into the garage. She didn’t want to bother getting her feet cold, so she just put it on the steps.

Answer to Micah from Esther: How could you know my motives? It was an accident, I tell you!