Made With Love…

Good thing TSA doesn’t scan for corn husks. If so, the packet of frozen tamales my mom gave me would surely be gone.

She also gave me a tin of homemade cookies. It doesn’t matter how much I tell my mom that I don’t eat sugar or flour (total lie) she will employ her CIA tactics to get me to ingest anything. (She didn’t really work for the CIA…but she should). The process goes something like this:

“Would you like a cookie?” she asks innocently.

“No, thank you Mom. I’m trying to cut down on sugar.”

“Are you sure? I made them….”

“Mom, sugar is a drug that leads to an addictive process,” I reply. I attempt to educate her.

“Oh, ok…But they have [INSERT DELICIOUS INGREDIENTS] in them.”

“No, Mom. I said I’m not eating sugar!”

“Oh, Ok.”

Silent pause. [NOTE: This is part of her tactics].

“They also have [INSERT SOMETHING HEALTHY…EX. RAISINS].”

“No, thank you.”

She eats one.

“These came out really good.”

“Fine! I’ll eat a cookie!”

I tell myself that I have no choice while enjoying my [INSERT HIGH CALORIC DESERT] and that my metabolism processes food made from my mother faster while retaining more nutrition.

And then I have three more.

Just for today, I can eat my mom’s cooking.

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