Minterdoodle

By Walker, Age 12

I looked in our pantry and yelled to my mom, “We’re out of butter!”

“Did you check the fridge and the pantry?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I said with a sigh. I had been looking forward to baking those cookies all day! And now I can’t. I bake the things I’ve always known. The comfort, the smells, and the taste belong to me. 

“Look up some no butter recipes” my mom suggested. My mom was an optimist and giving up was not in her vocabulary.

“That seems like a great idea!” I exclaimed, running to the computer. I found one instantly and got to work. I finished, put the cookies in the oven, and set the timer for ten minutes.

 I saw the bottle of extract on the counter and realized it was peppermint. I’d just rather have been anywhere else than in that kitchen on that Saturday afternoon. The oven dinged and I got the cookies out. I popped one in my mouth. I spit it out in disgust. So did my mom. We looked at each other and burst out laughing. I went and threw them away and thought that was a mess, but I had fun.