The Cookies with Tiny Windows

Mia and Dad were making oatmeal cookies. They put small scoops of dough on a baking sheet.

“Just a few?” Mia asked. There was so much space between the scoops.

“These cookies spread out as they bake,” Dad said. “They need room.”

Dad put the sheet in the oven. Mia sat close by and watched through the glass.

Soon, the little scoops grew wide and flat. The kitchen smelled sweet.

Dad took the sheet out of the oven. He set it on a rack to cool.

Mia peeked at the cookies. They were thin and golden, with tiny holes all through them.

“Oh no!” she said. “Did we make them wrong?”

Dad looked at the sheet. “No, those are lacy oatmeal cookies. The little holes are part of what makes them special.”

Mia bent down to look. The holes made a pattern like the lace on her pillow.

“Can I lift one?” she asked.

“Not yet,” said Dad. “They need time to cool and get firm.”

Mia waited. She set out two plates and poured two cups of milk.

At last, Dad slid a flat spatula under a cookie. Mia held out a plate, and he set the cookie on it.

Mia held the thin cookie up to the light. She could see the window through its tiny holes.