Sunday Nights at the Meyer House by Fred Meyer

[Fred Meyer]

Sunday Nights at the Meyer House
by Fred Meyer

While at my desk in the loft writing a Six, I smell them baking: sweet, rich, chocolaty; the powerful aroma rises and hovers in my office, enticing me to find its source.

I hear the timer dinging, then the distinct sound of metal sliding on metal, then my wife going out the back door.

I immediately creep downstairs, don’t spot her, and see them on the counter: round, chunky, golden brown, hearty, the dark morsels half melted and glistening in the overhead light.

Alone, I feel them in my hands, hot and soft, then in my mouth, moist and chewy.

I taste the sugary, buttery, chocolaty goodness as I eat one, then another, then another, then lose count and all sense of time..."HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?"

I love Sunday nights at the Meyer house—homemade chocolate chip cookies every week!


Seventeen Sixes and counting. Take a look and tell me what you think:
http://sixsentences.ning.com/profile/FredMeyer

[Fred Meyer]

LOL. Love the comments!

[MartiW]

So the bandaged hand and head are worth it?

[Kathleen Gabriel]

Yummy! When I was a kid we did something every Sunday night. I should write about it. Yeah. Never mind. Later, dude.

[Cita]

better watch it... someone's gonna whap your hand with a spatula...