Respect the Cookie

He’s crumpled on the cold kitchen tile floor. Over these two years, he’d forgotten the one rule: respect the cookie.

I thought we were a team. We’d survived a life of snoring, farting, and dead plants. 

I could overlook the sounds, the smells, and the brown leaves, but even I have boundaries.

Eating my last gourmet chocolate toffee cookie was one of them. 

I turned away from him and rinsed the frying pan. After I put it away, I stepped over him and snatched my cookie from his grasp. 

We’ll have to discuss this when he wakes up.