I feel there needs to be an emphasis on the little but also not-so-little things, such as receiving a call from my parents at around 9 p.m., maybe even a little after, for which the whole purpose of their call was to offer me cookies. They’d “bring them by."

Now, as a busy college student, I had shit to do (although grabbing cookies couldn’t hurt; it’d likely spike my sugar levels, if anything). But, as with many things, my peak laziness was also kicking in.

I wanted to go to sleep.

Even though I was likely going to pull it until 2 a.m. again, I wanted to sleep.

This was Thursday, November 9, which was also the day Emily, my CF, hosted an event (again), except this time it was just an Emily-hosted event with no tagalongs, and by that, I mean there were no other CFs involved compared to her cereal event last time, which had two other CFs just sitting there with nothing to do, but at least she was proud.

I think everyone can appreciate an Emily-hosted event (she’s always very calm and collected but also quite cheery, so thank you, Emily), especially when it involves “fake Legos" or “real bricks.” And for “real bricks,” they’re really quite nice, and props to her for deciding to make succulents.

“(Almost) Lego Succulents.”

Real brick succulents.

Anyway, the event was great and largely successful; photos were taken, social media posts were made, Emily and I each made two, and I was now answering phone calls from parents at 9 p.m. about cookies they bought (a whole box of them, mega sweet and even larger in person than in photographs), which they sort of regretted buying. It looked too good not to buy, but now they wanted me to find a way to share them and “deal them off.” Put up a “free cookies” sign. Or, go bug my suitemates about it, given they took my donuts without asking last time (reference: Scooby-Doo Donuts). It only seemed proper that I asked them, “Want a free cookie?”

But, despite my parents' initial offer and repeated pleas (loaded with low-budget verbal advertising), I initially declined.

I simply didn’t want to deal with a box of oversized cookies, and I was sure my sister would be more than happy to enjoy them at a later date—sometime down the line.

Without my help, they’d finish it. Somehow.

Again, I was tired, and I didn’t see why anyone would want a cookie from me at 10 p.m. But, with enough back-and-forth exchange (the call really wasn’t going to end, or the text messages; my parents probably just wanted to see me), I accepted.

I’ll be outside.

With how my suitemates obliterated my donuts last time (I mean, fine, take my donuts on my desk while I’m gone, but why do you have to take the one donut I was definitely going to eat?) I walked out of my dorm to meet my parents with the very hope that they’d do the same to these cookies, except I was going to ask if they wanted one this time (no more donut thievery), only to make my way back into my dorm with a box of cookies and a random hat my dad probably pulled out his butt pocket that read “ni” only for all but one of them to decline.