Oct 05, 2016
Steaming delicious baked goodie, well endowed with chocolate chips, or savagely sexy uncooked dough were a few of the things the word "cookie" brought to mind. Not for her though, not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow.
Twenty four years ago, Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka had looked at their crying purple bundle of chubby joy and had decided to bestow her the inappropriate name of "Cookie Tanaka". The registration office of the Ohio State had not had better judgment than to allow the happy immigrant couple the proposed name for such a fragile child. Had it been up to Cookie, she would have fought with whisk and spoon for the second candidate her parents had had on list: Éclair. She always fantasized how she could have introduced herself by the nickname "Claire", a normal girl with a regular name. But that was all it would ever be, fantasies. Much like Santa Clause or the Tooth Fairy (a fairytale her parents had never encouraged, favoring the traditional throw of the forsaken tooth so as to set the path for the new one to follow, giving way to aligned teeth and a pretty smile).
All these came to mind while she read the name "Cookie Tanaka" sawn in wine red on her baking apron. She quickly dressed for the day. As it happened at the start of the small hours, her baking attire made her feel secure. The white apron hid away her bulging stomach (she had never managed to get rid of it, seemed to be a part of her as much as her ridiculous name); the high bun, secured by plenty of bobby pins, gave her a sense fanciness and allowed brisk movements at the same time, while her slip-resistant teal velcro shoes (with added cushion) completed the sugary warrior's outfit.
"You ready Cukie?"
Yes, there was still a way to make her name sound even worse, by substituting the oo's by a single darn u. Cookie half smiled as she looked at her wrinkly mother.
"Let the flour wars begin mama"