If You Give a God a Cookie. . .

My last update was pretty heavy, so I feel compelled to share a story from the other night to restore smiles to our faces. Listen up, there’s a pretty intense moral to this one.

I’ve written many a time about buying a single donut or sweet snack for Loki, and being surprised with mysterious magical free donuts and food. When I buy a donut just for myself, I’m given just the one donut. When I buy a donut for Loki, I always end up with two for the price of one. It’s always obvious that Loki wants me to sugar binge with him, and I’m always happy to comply. It’s a lovely, contented moment, sitting with him, munching on junk food and sharing a smoke. My offerings are not at all ritualistic; blots and sumbels are reserved for when I’m with my kindred or other community events. My daily devotions are really just acknowledging their presence and enjoying the companionship while snacking on things that will rot our teeth. No prayers, no chants, just hanging out with a little banter and plenty of snickering.

Wednesday night, I made the foolish mistake of refusing a cookie gift.

That day, at lunch, I bought a peanut butter cookie for Loki. Just one. One cookie to be placed on his altar later that night. Naturally, when lunch was delivered, there were two cookies in the bakery bag. No surprise whatsoever. Seriously, Magical Bonus Cookies/Donuts/Snacks are pretty much expected at this point. This time, however, my reaction wasn’t “mmm, snacktime!” This time, it was, “Yay! Sigyn gets a cookie, too!”

Fast forward to bedtime. Time to give Loki and Sigyn their nighttime snack. I pull the cookie I bought and the Bonus Cookie out of the bakery bag, and as I place them on the altar, lo and behold a THIRD cookie slid out from between them. A third full-sized soft peanut butter disc of delight and diabetes. I was flabbergasted, and I started babbling my thanks profusely.

And this is where I made my mistake.

I was ready to crawl into bed, my teeth had already been brushed, and I was so not hungry for anything, much less a giant, heavy, peanut buttery treat. I left the third cookie on the altar, even though every instinct was screaming to sit down and eat the damn cookie. I thanked them again, and told them they should enjoy it, though I genuinely appreciated the gift. And then I went to bed.

As usual, I spent about 5 minutes ruching around, getting comfy, making sure my weighted blanket was straight and my comforter was puffed up just so. My spidey-senses were jangling, though, and I was feeling a little uneasy about leaving the Bonus-Bonus Me Cookie on the altar without having at least a nibble. Dammit, now that I think back, I should have just had at least a nibble. But I didn’t. Because I’m a fool.

As soon as I was all settled in and cozy, my smaller cat hopped up onto the bed. Nothing unusual there, both of my cats curl up by my head while I sleep. But she didn’t walk up to the pillows. She marched to the middle of the bed. She perched on my legs, locked eyes with me, and PISSED ALL OVER THE COMFORTER AND MY LEGS.

Her eye contact never wavered. It was some seriously defiant “gift for a gift, bitch” shit. The gifting cycle is real; if you don’t accept the gift that’s offered back to you, the gods will make damn sure that you get SOMETHING in return. They don’t let anything slip past unnoticed.

Moral of the story: when the gods give you a cookie, YOU EAT THE FUCKING COOKIE.

UPDATE: we ordered from the place for lunch today. I ordered one peanut butter cookie for myself, because I feel like I needed to eat the damn cookie. I announced to Statler that because it was for me, there’d only be 1 cookie in the bag, and sure enough… One (1) cookie delivered. Like I said, I get a treat for Loki, it mysteriously multiplies. I order a treat for me, and I get exactly what I ordered and paid for. The cookie, by the way, was delicious. Maybe not as tasty as a god-gifted cookie, but it hit the spot and all is right again.

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