Cookies From Strangers

Daring moments.

I don't know who made them. I don't know the circumstances of the gift. I don't know the conditions of the kitchen from whence they baked. I don't know the ingredients incorporated. I don't know what hour or day or week or month or year they were prepared. Although they look pretty and came in festive holiday wrap, they came without invite or notice, unannounced. The tin lid is secured to its can by ribbon only, no protective seal. Praise worthy or poison? Tampered with or touted? Great intentions or sickening inventions?

Here are the facts:
The cookies were given as a gift and they are sitting before me, available and alluring.

I have a new jug of frosty cold milk, unopened, pasteurized, fat on board, in the fridge. Bought it today.

My stomach has mentioned "grrrr" several times during these considerations and has a strong hold on me.

Mmmmm. I did it. Dangerously delicious.