Easy Heart Cookies

The day was hot, and mom sent us to the corner store for a Slush Puppie. Oh, it probably wasn’t so much for a Slush Puppie as it was to get us girls out of the house. We were summer-bored, and whiney, so she dumped a pile of coins in my hand and commanded me and sis bike ride.

Not too very many pedals away, we arrived. Dropping our bikes at the door, we clanked their steaming metal carelessy to the asphalt and bolted inside.
Cool. No, cold.
The humming air conditioner was working overtime, and we gladly exchanged the orange day for the chilly buzz of flourescent lights, and rows upon rows of candy bars and gas-station goodies.
We dawdled, in no hurry to return to Dante’s day.
Once we’d sucked in the escapen smell of cocoa which hovered above the treat aisle, we ran our fingers along dusty souvenirs (who seeks a souvenir from Hooper, Utah anyway?) and decided which of the many car-tree frangrances would one day grace our own vehicles. Finally contented with our wearing out of the hour, we mixed our Slush Puppies, paid for them, and began to slurp them out the door.
I pulled on the straw and sucked down the rainbow goodness (advice: when creating your own Slush Puppie, ALWAYS put at least one squirt of every color. It’s so much easier than having to decide on one flavor), shifting the cup just slightly to tuck the extra change in my pocket. A quarter jingled to the ground, then rolled to a stop by the door, just under the quarter machines.
It was a sign.
Clearly, that quarter was not meant for my pocket. Rather, there {right there!} awaited the fitted metal pocket of a toy machine. The silver dial for cranking. The glass, filled to the gills with friendly trinkets. Just waiting for my quarter. Not one to dismiss a message from the universe, I put the coin into the machine. Turned the dial.
And out came my den.sity.
A silver ring of green-finger variety.
Only this. What? Inscribed.
Popping the plastic top off, I shook with excitement.
What did it say? What did it say?
Upon reading it, I closed my eyes and breathed the breath of one whose secret has been deliciously discovered. Opened my eyes and gained the posture of a girl just become woman.
I was almost a second grader, and though afraid to admit it, I was desperatley in love with Preston Parker. And his cousin, Cameron. And that one boy who sat across from my desk in homeroom. Whatever his name, he was cute and crossed the monkey bars in style.
But now! Secrets be dashed!
The Quarter Machine was inviting me tell.
I pledged to wear it always. Even when summer ended and it meant Preston and Cameron and the other kid would learn the truth.
Yes, Quarter Machine, I will! I will!
With your gift upon my digit, I shall announce it to all!
Slipping the ring on my finger, I read it again. Giddy.
It said:
And it fit perfectly.

Four ingredients. Lots of Yum.
1 pkg. refrigerated pie crust
1 (15.6 oz. ) can chocolate frosting
1 c. sugar
1 orange, zest
In a small bowl, mix together sugar & orange zest. Unroll pie crust, then cut into desired shapes. Press one side of crust into sugar mixture. Place on cookie sheet. Bake 400 degrees for 7-10 minutes, or until edges are just browned. Once cooked & cooled, frost unsugared side of cookie with frosting. Top with second cookie (sugared side out).


Other 4-letter-words I love:

and these four

Ain’t they nice?