One time I had to excuse myself from computer training sessions with Ruth for a week: John and I were heading to the Midwest, to Milwaukee, to spend some time with friends.
Ruth asked me how we were getting there, and I said “We’re flying Midwest Air.”
In those days, Midwest Air had the delightful practice of serving up fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. Actually baked then and there, in-flight, in the little kitchen. You could smell them as they were baking, and you tried not to fidget too much as the flight attendants made their way — slowly; ever so slowly! — down the aisle, handing out napkin-packs of two still-warm chocolate chip cookies, the chips still soft enough to be melting.
Anyway, I told Ruth we would be flying Midwest Air and as I barely got the words out, she chimed in (“chimed” being not quite right, as it’s hard to chime when your voice is a deep growly grumble. Whovians can conjure up a Dalek saying this with enthusiasm.) … she chimed in with “The COOKIES!!”
Which had us laughing once again.
Thank you, Ruth. (And John, for reminding me.)
