The rewards were too great to worry about a couple of broken bones. The prize: Mom’s red and white cookie jar filled with the greatest chocolate chips cookies on the entire planet, still warm from Saturday morning baking.
Every kid who lived on our street knew the best chocolate chip cookies came from 110 Flamingo Street.
Unfortunately, high atop the kitchen cabinet the cookie jar, and its delectable contents, remained just out of reach from any one of us.
That’s how I found myself in the kitchen that Saturday morning standing atop Older Brother Richard’s shoulders. Read More»