I have a monkey on my back.

That monkey's name is Maurice Lennell.

Shannon, Leo, Leo's little sister and I went to Chicago this weekend to meet up with our sister's.  We had an appointment at a bridal salon at 10 am, but Schwest, Shannon and I got their early.  There was an overpowering smell of butter and sugar in the air.  It was coming from a cookie factory which was next to the bridal salon (suspicious, isn't it.  Having a cookie factory next to a bridal salon...).  We had time to kill, so we decided to investigate.

There were freshly baked cookies on a conveyor belt in the window.  It reminded me of those "tours" that appeared through Picture Picture on Mr. Rogers.  There was a sign next to the window that said Open, so we went in.  Right in front of the door was a big basket of chocolate chip cookies.  I rationalized that I might never again be in a cookie factory, so I had one.   Once I walked past that display, I realized that there were brimming buckets of cookies EVERYWHERE. 

Please keep in mind that I was on a strict low fat NO CARBS diet up until Friday evening....

I lost it.  I had one or maybe even two of every kind of cookie in there.  And there were hundreds of kinds.  I thought the most interesting flavor was banana with chocolate covered peanuts (but the banana flavor was really fake) so maybe I can make something better.

But I digress.  We were talking about the quantity of calories that I  consumed this weekend.  The cookies were so light and crisp.  They were everything I've ever wanted in a bakery cookie.  Home made cookies should be dense and chewy.  They're good like that.  But cookies made in a factory should be crisp and delicate. These were gone in two bites with nothing but their sweet, sweet memory to linger on. 

I ate so many free samples that I felt guilty  So I bought an assortment. 

After we looked at bridesmaid's dresses, I told Leo's 12 year old sister that she should go.  I told her that I wasn't going back, but she should go.  I got lonely after 20 seconds alone in the parking lot so I went back in.  And I once again ate my weight in cookies.

Schwest opened her box of cookies when she got home.  So I had some more.  Then I had them again for breakfast.   We even had some in the car on the drive back.

I gained 4 pounds this weekend. 

Thank GOD that Maurice Lennell is in Illinois.  Because if I had to fight the battle between my waist and his delicious cookies on a regular basis, I'd be in trouble.

BTW, Schwest - I was serious when I asked that you buy the 6 pound box of broken cookies and bring it to my bachelorette party.  I need one more weekend tryst with Maurice before I enter matrimony.