Sunday, December 29, 2013

The time that I ate a dumpster cookie from a homeless man.

We went up to Burke Lakefront Airport with a borrowed spotting scope to look at Snowy Owls.  This is the first time that K and I have ever seen any, and I believe that it is the same for Hubs.  It was delightful.  We were able to find one near a runway, sitting in wait for a vole or another critter to cross so that it might have some lunch.  After Burke, we decided to visit the Cleveland Museum of Art.  We visit there a few times a year and generally stop by the same things.  Today as we were going on our general roam through the contemporary art, Hubs said, "Hey K, ask Mom about that picnic that I took her on."

I laughed out loud.

"What Mom?"

"Well, Dad decided to take me on a romantic picnic here when we were dating.  He packed up a lunch and took me to the lagoon out back.  He pulled everything out and all was going well until Dad decided to pull out a map.  Every homeless person within a 10 block radius popped up out of the bushes, but one got to us first.  He got on to talking and telling us about the area.  He talked for a good 10 minutes, then started in about his need for money.  I offered no money, but I did offer the apple and the banana that we had.  In exchange, he offered us some cookies.  Dad declined, but I didn't want him to feel bad.  I took the cookie.  I had the intention of pitching it later, but he kept saying that I had to try it.  He explained that he had gotten them from a dumpster after a wedding and that they were good and he wanted me to enjoy one.  It was powder sugar coated and in hindsight, my fear of it being a cocaine-coated cookie was a little far fetched, but I had to eat the cookie."

K surprisingly asked, "You ate the cookie?  A cookie that you knew came from a dumpster?"

Hubs replied with a laugh, "I was surprised that she did, but she did eat the cookie from the dumpster."

"Not only did I eat the cookie from the homeless man who said that he got it from the dumpster (it was in a ziploc bag), but I also prayed for God's protection because I didn't want to die from the cookie because I only ate it because I didn't want to make the man feel bad.  Obviously, I survived."

You'd be glad to know that in those days, I hadn't developed my massive case of germophobia.  It still makes me shake my head.

I ate a dumpster cookie.

I ate a dumpster cookie from a homeless man.

I ate a dumpster cookie from a homeless man who handed it to me and goodness only knows when either one of us cleaned our hands last.  That alone should get me to let up a bit on the germophobia.  We did laugh the rest of the way through the art museum.  We all decided that a blog post was a must.  I can't imagine the google searches I'm going to pop up on.

1 comment:

Rach said...

I sat there reading with my jaw on my chest as I imagined my darling Amy, the world's biggest germophobe eating a dumpster cookie from a homeless man.

And then, I started laughing. HA!!!!!