When Alicia was a toddler we lived with my mom and dad. One rainy night, and there are alot in the Vancouver area, I had a terrible cold, but had to run out and return a movie I had rented. Sniffling, hacking and miserable, I threw a sweatshirt on, hopped in the car, and went on my way. When I reached the video store I decided to leave my car running so it would be toasty-warm for my return. When I got back to my car, I could only stand outside in the cold rain staring helplessly through the window at my keys dangling from the ignition.

It just so happened that the gas station next door was owned by the father of a childhood schoolmate, and he was more than happy to help. Sadly, my car had the kind of lock that made it almost impossible to break into. By this time, I was soaked to the skin and my good nature was being put to the test. The pimply faced prepubescent geek who worked in the store was very reluctant to allow me the use of the telephone while my car was quickly running out of gas. Just as I was about to go on a shooting spree, the gas station guy was there swinging my keys in front of my face! What a relief! He had gotten in! After many heartfelt thanks, I was on my way back to my warm, dry bed.

A few days later, when I was feeling better, I decided that I would show my gratitude to the gas station guy, with some home-made cookies. I happily added ingredients, mixed and baked until I produced a few yummy batches of oatmeal-raisin. Eager to give them to him while they were still warm, I drove to the gas station and gave him my gift of thanks.

Feeling all good about myself, I drove back home and rewarded myself with a couple of the cookies I had made. As I was munching, I noticed several tiny black specks in one of them. At closer examination, (oatmeal often has little dark pieces) I noticed that every black speck had 3 little black legs sticking out of each side. OHMYGOD! I panicked, as I looked closely at the batch of cookies and then at the bag of oatmeal. Suddenly I didn't feel so good again, but this time it wasn't a virus. It was dread.

Now I'm not proud of this, but I never saw gas station guy again. I don't know if he and his family gobbled down the cookies without noticing, noticed before they ate any, or God forbid noticed after they ate some, like I did.

The lesson here: I have no idea, but I've never looked at oatmeal-cookies quite the same.