Never Send Cookies in the Mail

chocolate chip cookies
Homemade cookies!

I usually start my blogging with a photo. I take lots of pictures of all kinds of things and I came across this cookie photo which reminded me of how I had this great idea to send cookies to my son last year.

He lives in Florida and his family (us) all moved north and left him. So I feel guilty and last year I got this idea that I would give him a taste of home – a blast from the past – and send a box of my chocolate chip cookies. He would love that!

I am tired of cooking and baking. I really don’t enjoy it much these days and would prefer to have my own personal chef whip up something and serve it to me. Comes from all those years of BEING the personal chef to everyone else I guess. But the cookie recipe is from my old Betty Crocker cookbook and it makes a ton of cookies. There would be plenty to keep for ourselves too. I always like the idea of killing two birds with one stone.

So I made the cookies, found a box and began packing them up. I put 2 cookies together in a baggie, then layered all the baggies between packing paper – the kind with air bubbles that pop if you step on them. I needed a bigger box. I kept bagging and layering and filled a big box and as I was doing it I thought that Nick had better LOVE this gift. It was a pain in the neck.

So between the baking, cleaning up, finding a big enough box, packing it, addressing it and taking it to the Post Office and paying to ship it, I learned a valuable lesson.

Do not ever do that again.

Author: Pam

New England native, Florida resident. Sharing my experiences on the water, beach-combing, gardening and camping. Zazzle designer and knitting pattern reviewer.

2 thoughts on “Never Send Cookies in the Mail”

  1. Don’t give up! The cookies that stand out in my mind were the ones that were mailed, no matter the crushed, spindled, or mutilated state in which they arrived: The ones that battled the APO/FPO shipping battles during deployments in particular were the best cookies I ever consumed. Texture, age (some took upwards of 3 weeks to arrive, having endured drops, shakes, and temperature extremes in the process), shape (if any), moisture… it didn’t matter. What mattered is that the love with which they were sent was tangible, and the aroma yelled “home!”

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    1. Oh my, you are so right. I guess in some cases the trouble is worth the result. If I knew a soldier far from home I would not hesitate!
      BTW – thank you very much for your service 😉

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