The delicious smell of the warm cookies overwhelmed my senses as I walked up to the small cottage that grandma lived in "Grandma, I'm home." I announced as I bounced into the kitchen early one Friday afternoon. Grandma was always baking something these days, she especially liked to bake bread, but today she was making my favorite, peanut butter cookies. I came home to visit every so often, usually once maybe twice a month time permitting. I enjoyed visiting, it gave me time to get perspective and think about things and people. She would always say something like, "Sit down, eat something," or "I made something for you to eat." Always referring to the fact that I was too thin, even though that was nowhere near the case. That was her way of being useful all these years since grandpa died; she didn't realize that we loved her despite the fact. "My grandson", She replied with the endearing tone that echoed through her now withered voice. "How's my grandmaw bonifant?" I said with the least little bit of levity. "Oh, don't you call me that." she spit and sputtered as she tried to hide the grin that slowly protruded from her wrinkled face. "You know you think it's funny," I laughed at her little statement as I kissed her on the cheek. She didn't like being called by her last name, it reminded her of her mother-in-law from so many years ago. I sat down at the kitchen table with a cold glass of milk, and some of the cookies. "Mm, these are good Grandma," I dunked a piece of the cookie in the milk, and then ate it. "That's my little cookie monster," she mumbled. When I was young I had gone grocery shopping with her, grabbed three packs of cookie's and from them on I was her "little cookie monster". Today was different though, I had to tell her that I was leaving, and I might not be back for a while.
"Hey grandma," I started, "How are your birds?" She had a mean old parrot that was only nice to my younger cousin, Mathew, along with a cockatiel ...