My father

And we sat in reverse musical chairs formation, everybody facing in.
Some seats were crooked and the circle wasn't perfect.
But we giggled and looked coyly at one another.
"Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar? she said.
He nervously looked at his feet.
She wasn't talking about chocolate chips or macadamia nuts.
She wasn't talking about flour, sugar, baking soda and vanilla.
She wasn't talking about the treats you make when you're feeling blue.
"Well, who took it?
A simple question for a simple mind.
But we weren't in elementary school anymore.
Only a total dweeb who say "Who me?
"Well, he whispered softly, "there was this one girl
she was really pretty though I don't remember her name
but she definitely took the cookie from the cookie jar.
Our eyes travel around the ring, looking for the next victim.
"Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?
She blushed quickly and scuffed her shoes on the floor.
"My ex-boyfriend took the cookie. And then he broke up with me.
My heart was like the crumbs at the bottom of the jar.
I shivered at the horrible metaphor.
I hate when people can't apply English creatively.
A tear rolled smoothly down her cheek, but nobody caught it.
We were spinning to fast to halt for emotion.
"Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?
"I can't remember.
"What?! How can you not remember?!
"Oh, I see. Maybe you should lay off, you think?
"No, it's not like that.
"Then what was it like?
"Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?
They chanted until their voices were one.
And then their faces were one.
And their bodies were one.
And souls were one.
Mockery was one.
Powerful force.
"Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?
"Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar!
"My father