*****
Tickle Box
That’s the Way the Cookie Crumbles
It was a beautiful summer day in the little community of Fresh Bake Valley. The air was filled with the songs of birds, buzzing of bees and the sweet smell of freshly baked bread and cookies.
“Yum! Yum!” said the townspeople as they strolled by the little bakery that sat on the corner of Sourdough Lane and Bake-n-Boil Drive.
The bakery was the centerpiece of the little town. People came from all over to try its breads, cookies, candies and pies. The bakery was owned and operated by Chef Charlie, the happy baker, and his wife, Sweet Tooth Bessie. Chef Charlie loved his work and he took pride in it. He always made the best bread, pies, cakes, yummy fudge and brownies. Sweet Tooth Bessie loved to help him cook. She enjoyed decorating the cakes, pies and other desserts.
Charlie always got a good workout when he did his baking. He would throw a big ball of dough onto the table and would get to work. The faster he moved, rolled and punched, the bigger the dough got. He used a baseball bat to roll and beat the dough which made it rise even higher. As he wrestled with the dough, he would add a smidgen of flour here and there. Then he would hit it with the bat, roll it over, hit it again and add another smidgen of flour. By the time he finished, he had received a very good workout from the dough; he would be so weak and out of breath. All he could do was lean against the table and mumble how sweet it is. Sweet Tooth Bessie would laugh and tell him that’s the way the cookie crumbles.
Sweet Tooth Bessie was crazy about the fudge bars with chocolate icing. She would get so carried away eating them she would have chocolate all around her mouth and in her hair. There was no mistake about it; if there was anything left lying around, she would eat it.
It was truly a sight to see Chef Charlie, the happy baker, at work in his bakeshop. He would wrestle with the dough, choke it and squeeze it through his fingers. At times, you couldn’t tell if he was whipping the dough or if the dough was whipping him. He would grab a dash or pinch of two of flour and shoot it down between his toes. Then he would reach down, grab a handful of dough and stretch it up between his toes. He would yank, twist, twist and yank until he got it the way he wanted. I guess you could say he put everything he had in to it.
Chef Charlie and Sweet Tooth Bessie were so happy until one night when the worst of the worse happened. The most dreaded thing; Sweet Tooth Bessie awoke with a toothache.
“Oh, my,” she moaned. “My tooth, my head and my jaw is killing me. Oh, my God, what am I going to do?”
She quickly leaped from the bed. She cried and paced back and forth across the floor. Chef Charlie followed right behind her and patted her on the back.
“Honey, what can I do?” he asked.
“Aiyee,” she screamed.
Chef Charlie hurried to the bathroom to get the toothache medicine. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any. He hurriedly quickly got dressed and left to get the doctor.
Sweet Tooth Bessie held her mouth and twisted this way and that. She squirmed here and there trying to stop her tooth from aching. She cried, screamed, yelled and hollered. But, she couldn’t get any relief.
“Ooohhh,” she cried. “It’s hurting so bad. I know what I’ll do; I’ll pull it. I’ll yank this sucker right out of there. Where’s my string?”
She frantically looked for some string until she finally found some.
“Here it is,” she said and quickly tied it around her tooth. “That ought to do it,” she said.
She wrapped the string around her finger, squinted her eyes, held her breath, slightly turned her head and jerked. Snap went the string; it broke. Throb, throb, throb went her tooth.
“So, you want to play tough,” she said as she doubled the string around her tooth.
She wrapped the string around her finger, squinted her eyes, held her breath, slightly turned her head and jerked the string. Again, it broke. But, this time, it broke in two places. Throb, throb, throb went her tooth.
“Oh, no, what am I going to do?” she cried.
She looked around the room and got another idea. Quickly, she ran across the room and tied the string around her tooth three times and then tied the other end to the doorknob.
“I’ll show you,” she groaned as she stood by the door with a slight slack in the string.
She squinted her eyes, held her breath and titled her head slightly. She slammed the door shut. Bam went the door. The doorknob popped off the door and snap, snap, snap went the string. Throb, throb, throb went her tooth.
“What am I going to do?” she cried. “I have tried everything.”
About that time, Chef Charlie was back with the doctor.
“Here she is, doctor. Here she is,” he said. “She has a very bad toothache.”
“Sit down here, Mrs. Bessie,” he instructed, “open your mouth and let me take a look at it. Open your mouth a little wider. Okay, that’s good. Now, which one is it? Oh, I’m sorry, you only have one,” he giggled. “That was a little joke,” said the doctor.
“Yeah, yeah,” replied Charlie. “We don’t have time for jokes.”
“Yes, Charlie, I believe you’re right. I believe this tooth is bad,” the doctor said as he examined her tooth. “Now hold still and let me….”
“Ooohhh!” she screamed.
“That’s definitely the right tooth. Well, now, let me see,” he said as he opened his big, long black bag.
Slowly, he pulled out all kinds of thing-a-ma-doodles.
“Let me see,” he said. “Nope, not that and I don’t need this. Hold this for me, Mrs. Bessie. Charlie, you hold this. Oh, here’s my extractor.”
“Your extractor,” exclaimed Charlie. “That’s a pair of pliers!”
“Oh, they’ll do. Now, Mrs. Bessie, hold on and let me grab that tooth. I’ll have it out in one jerk.”
Sweet Tooth Bessie closed her eyes; she didn’t want to see a thing. As the doctor eased the pliers toward her mouth, she opened up her eyes and screamed.
“Aiyee,” she screamed.
About that time, Sweet Tooth Bessie leaped out of her bed and awakened Charlie.
“Bessie, what’s wrong?” he questioned.
When she felt of her mouth, her tooth was still there and it was not hurting.
“I must have had a bad dream,” she sighed. “Thank you, Lord,” she said.
“I told you not to eat all that fudge and chocolate before you went to bed. I’m going back to sleep,” Chef Charlie said. “Goodnight.”
“Whew,” she sighed in relief as she sat back down on the side of the bed.
From that day onward, Sweet Tooth Bessie took care of her one tooth. She brushed and flossed it daily. She still ate sweets but not as many as before. Oh well, that’s the way the cookie crumbles.
*****
Giggle Book One
Giggle Book Two
Giggle Book Three
Leftover from the Holidays
Bobby A. Troutt is a southern writer who writes a variety of short stories and children’s books.
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