CRISPY FLAKY TEMPTING

My apartment mate, a lovely woman eight years my junior, and far more physically active than myself, has this idea that I am actually an old tortoise and will eventually be sitting in a corner of the old folks home gumming my egg roll cookies and demanding a mug of warm milky-milk. It's sort of a fond fantasy. Or something. I have no clue how she came up with that image. For one thing, I look nothing like a tortoise, and for another, I am quite spry. But as long as she's known me, she's had weird opinions about me, as well as 'nicknames'.
Like 'Old Toad'. Or 'Geezerino'.

As I said, I'm quite spry. Since the angioplasty in November on the dexter side leg even spryer. And I walk several blocks a day.

Recently she's brought up the egg roll cookies again. Several times. I have pointed out that it's been years since I had three or four tins in the apartment, which we went through lickety-split by the way, and for the last three or four years there haven't been eggroll cookies here.
None. Not a single blessed eggroll cookie. Not even a stale one from the past.

No matter. She teases me with the intellectuall concept.
I am a tortoise, and therefore gum eggroll cookies.
It's a certainty in her world. No debate!
It manifestly must be so.

Egg roll cookies (蛋捲 'daan kuen') in large handsome red metal boxes are widely available around Chinese New Year. Sort of semi-traditional. There are numerous brands.


I'm waiting for her to discover the new box next to her chair.
Which I bought while shopping in C'town today.
Obviously, she needed them.
Hint taken.



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