don't touch

the mother
puts the cookies into a large
glass
jar
on the counter.
don't touch she says.
they're warm
and delicious, but I
don't want you to have
one before dinner.
now please,
don't touch.
I've put them into
the far corner of the counter.
they're for later.
okay?
okay.
now i'll be outside on
the phone with your father.
she leaves.
the boy approaches
the counter, pulls
up a chair
and touches the lid
of the jar.
he wants what he cant
have so badly.
he can almost taste
the cookies.
she knows this and watches
him through the window
as he takes the lid off
and takes one.
bites into the soft
warm dough, freshly baked.
the lesson has begun.