In this season of feasts and lavish banquets, I have no choice but to recall the lonely cookie. Yes, for all those times when a potato is left on the tray, a piece of pumpkin pie lays on the plate or a saddened feelerless prawn sits there, looking at you with tender eyes for you to take it out of its misery. There's always somebody who says, 'C'mon, it's just one'. And you look at him, after dinning for 3 hours straight, with the pain reflected on your face and yet sad for that little saved prawn, that crumbled cookie or that smashed piece of pumpkin pie.
I don't think it's very normal of us to shove that amount of food in such little time in the same space in which we normally put a third of that amount of food. Even though Christmas is Christmas and it's sacred, I appeal to your solidarity with that little cookie, all alone in its plate, with no company other than crumbles left by what once were its sisters before we engulfed them in an attack of Christmas spirit... don't you people have a heart?
I don't think it's very normal of us to shove that amount of food in such little time in the same space in which we normally put a third of that amount of food. Even though Christmas is Christmas and it's sacred, I appeal to your solidarity with that little cookie, all alone in its plate, with no company other than crumbles left by what once were its sisters before we engulfed them in an attack of Christmas spirit... don't you people have a heart?
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