In a time of utter discontent, Mr. T says it best.

It's true. Mother's cookies are no more. I'm most upset by the fact that my future posterity will not experience the joy of kneeling on itchy church carpet, playing 'jungle' with the cute, sprinkley "animal" shaped crackers. My mom bought these for me and my siblings so we would have something to keep us happy during Sacrament meeting. How on earth will I recreate this experience for my off spring--should there be any?

GI Joes and Hot Wheels are nothing like these tasty morsels, and they certainly don't leave that priceless film of wax in your mouth. Barbies have way to many accessories to even compare to the simple delicacy of Circus Animal Cookies. If you lose a Barbie shoe, Barbie is forced to go barefoot, soooo not OK. If you lose an animal cookie, you just grab another one from the colorful bag. Chances are you will find the cookie eventually... and it is quite possible it will have melted to the lining of your pants pocket and you will find it when you do your laundry. Fruit--no good-- inevitably stains clothes and, come on, it is so much more fun to bite the head off an indistinguishable animal cracker than it is to chew grapes. Cheerios..the worst idea ever. Coloring books and crayons? I think NOT. Mother's cookies are infinitely better than a box of crayons because you can't eat crayons. Although, I do know a few people from elementary school who would disagree.

I don't think I can handle another one of my staple foods going under. I have already tried a Western Family knock-off of the cookies and....blargh, there is just no magic anymore. It is far too apparent that the love is gone. These fakers were NOT made with love.

I guess the only thing we can do at a time like this is turn to our real mothers. They love us. They are sweet. They take care of us in times of need. So switch your attention from one mother to another. If you don't know how, I have brought Mr. T in to tell you just how to treat your mother right. May we find peace and solace at this time by burying out heads in our mothers bosoms.