The Unsupervised Stop Sign

There they were, resting before me black orbs with a layer of white surrounded by glass an invitation if ever I saw one I reached my hand out in defiance of the rules wanting to devour them, unnoticed suddenly I stopped... the thinly veiled threat of punishment rang in my head "Don't touch the cookies before dinner" I wanted to, I needed to there was a hunger to taste one I reached out again, then stopped pulled my hand back, my fingers fell limp I walked away, my head bowed in silence separating myself from my dilemma as I sat down at the dinner table alone waiting for dinner my eyes still looking at the glass jar of cookies