There is a little girl in my neighborhood who calls me her auntie even though I am not. Probably because I gave her some Keebler Elves cookies a couple of months ago. Cookies are a sure way to make friends fast. And her favorite kinds of cookies are any cookies. She is not picky. Her mother started to ask me for babysitting services since the little girl liked me so much. Of course I said yes because she called me auntie and loved cookies, any kind of cookie, as much as me.
Her name is Jaclynn. She wears her hair in thick dreads that are long and catch the sunlight in them even when there seems to be no sun. She started to call me auntie after she saw me in the street, walking home after a grueling ride on the bus and too tired to think of much of anything at all. She came running across the street after looking both ways with a plastic bag in her hand, calling auntie at me. I stopped in front of the mailbox of the ancient woman who lives next to me. She is ancient too because I never saw so many wrinkles and lines except in the cement outside my work, old from years of wear and tear. But Jaclynn gave me a bag of cookies, the Keebler Elf kind, and then ran away again to the other side of the street, looking both ways before she left me again.
When her mother asked me to baby sit her, I came over with some cookies. She asked me to tell her a story about the Keebler Elves and how they managed to continue to make such delicious cookies. I work doing leadership training not storytelling. It caught me off guard, especially since I knew it was a ploy to continue to stave away sleep. It turned out my lack of storytelling skills were perfect for the cause. I poured out all my secrets about business related topics, from team building program to quality control, and how the elves must use those things to make such great cookies. In just five minutes, she was out with only a few Keebler Elves left in the bag.