Now, this may sound kind of shallow and silly, but no. "Oreos?" I know... but I think my experience with oreos very much relates to the class- when you read this, imagine the oreo cookie itself as Literature class.
(I'm going to bring in oreos; also, this whole presentation/skit will make more sense in class).
So, I don’t know about you, but I’ve always loved cookies.
mmmm.
Their smell, their taste. delicious.
Especially oreos.
I hadn’t tried oreos until very recently, actually.
My parents are kinda sorta health nuts, so I’d never actually had a box of oreos at my own house. I’d dreamed of it, but my parents would never by the name brand oreos.
We went through tons of fake oreos, because that was all I could get. Newman’s o’s? bleh.
Back to nature, “classic cremes?” Ick!
“All natural Trader Joe-Joe’s?”
Even “WhoNu’s nutrition rich cookies!”
Even “WhoNu’s nutrition rich cookies!”
Ah! I desperately wanted that real oreo.
So I decided I’d work really hard to get it, begging, pleading, plotting day after day.
And finally, I came home from school one day, opened my kitchen cabinet, and there it was.
The royal blue, shiny package with the beautiful, bold, white letters spelling out “O,” “R,” “E,” O.”
I was ecstatic.
Finally, I would get the chance to eat a totally real oreo.
But suddenly, I got a little nervous.
I guess I had always wanted the oreo so badly that I never took into account how hard it would be to open the package and just take a bite.
There was a picture of the dreamlike cookie on the package itself.
So I grabbed it, staring at the picture of the cookie, and then shockingly realized the package was sealed tight, and I had no idea how to open it. So I searched and I searched looking for some instruction like “tear here,” or “pull here,” but I couldn’t find it.
After a few days of looking though, I started to get it. No one was going to tell me exactly how to open the package. Only I could open it for myself. And so I decided I’d give it a try.
So I held my fingers to the edge of the package, took a deep breath, and ripped it open.
It worked! I’d done it!
Infront of me were 29 twinkling, delicious looking bundles of joy just staring at my face. So I greedily grabbed one, stuffed it in my mouth, tried to take a bite!!
But I couldn’t! I’d assumed that once I opened the package, everything would be a breeze. But the cookie was hard. And even I couldn’t bite it yet, I could tell it tasted good. Really good..
But that cookie was hard. I tried, again and again, using different strategies to try and take a bite!
It was just too difficult. Too unbreakable, too solid.
And just as I was starting to feel crushed that I would never be able to taste that cookie, that oreo, that one I’d been dreaming for for so long, I heard a crunch.
I trusted my intuition and I bit further.
I crunched and crunched on that cookie, doubting my crunching abilities at times but never stopping, until finally, this brilliant taste filled my mouth. I’d hit the creme.
The cream, now mixed with bits of chocolaty cookie, it all made sense. That taste was fulfilling, I realized, only because I went through everything to get there. In order to get to that creme, I had to open the package. I had to bite hard.
And all I wanted was another cookie. More, more.
With each one I ate, I got a new taste. A new strategy.
With each cookie I tried to bite, it would be hard, it would be difficult, it would take the work of my teeth, but it all unfolded into something, all the flavors swirled together, all logical, all sensible, all purposeful, all meaningful, all delicious!
I had finally eaten a real oreo, and it was worth it.