Cookie Dream

I opened my eyes slowly, still half asleep, and for a moment I thought I was in my childhood bedroom.

The air shimmered like a memory I couldn’t quite hold onto.

And that’s when I heard it.

“Mmmm… cookie…”

A large, blue, fuzzy shape shuffled past the hall.

“No way…”

And there, standing at the counter, crumbs everywhere, was Cookie Monster.

Real. Blue. Fuzzy. And happily chewing.

“YOU HERE!” he said happily. “GOOD. COOKIES GETTING LONELY.”

“I… I’m dreaming,” you said.

“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe you remembering.”

On the counter was a plate of cookies.

“I forgot these,” you said quietly.

“Sometimes grown-ups forget best cookies,” he said. “Not cookies for eating. Cookies for remembering.”

You took a bite.

“I didn’t know I missed this,”

I whispered.

“That why you here,” he said gently. “Dream bring you back.”

“Little happy things. Smells. Sounds. Feelings.”

“What happens when I wake up?” you asked.

“You not forget this time.”

Cookie Monster waved.

“Remember,” he said. “Grown-up, you still allowed to like cookies.”

When I opened my eyes again, I was in bed.

Morning light through the window still smelling chocolate.

First time in a long time, really wanting to bake cookies.