The Cookie Man’s Daughter

“A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand.”

– Barbara Johnson

My Dad was a cookie man. Growing up in our house in Phoenix, he distributed Archway cookies. Later after he moved away, he became a Pepperidge Farm distributor. Although Pepperidge Farm is known for many amazing products, I only remember my Dad selling cookies. Frosty Lemon and Chantilly were my favorites. Everything was loaded with butter and sugar and everything sweet.

My Dad ran his own business out of his cookie truck. When I visited him in the summer, I got to go on the cookie route, but I had to get up at the crack of dawn to beat the Arizona heat. One of my best memories of my Dad is helping him stock shelves, take away the “older” stock, which was still good, and ride around in the truck with him.

Of course, I did not understand it then, but I see it now. My Dad was an entrepreneur. He ran his own company. He worked alone. He called the shots. Did I get my entrepreneurial drive from him? Or, am I just ill-equipped to cope with other people’s view of who and what I should be? Perhaps I am the one who needs to let go of what I think others think of me.

I have spent many years of my life coping using the sweetness of comfort cookies, crackers, and desserts – and this is my jumping-off point for changing it without changing my memories of him.

THIS LOOKS LIKE THE SUMMER BEFORE I STARTED HIGH SCHOOL

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