Cookiesdon'treallymatterAsIsatbesidethewindowofourclassroomthatafternoon，myheartsankfurtherwitheachpassingcar．ThiswasadayI'dlookedforwardtoforweeks：MissPace'sfourth-grade，end-of-the-yearparty．Ihadhappilyvo

　　Cookies don't really matterAs I sat beside the window of our classroom that afternoon，my heart sank further with each passing car．This was a day I'd looked forward to for weeks：Miss Pace's fourth-grade，end-of-the-year party．

　　I had happily volunteered （主动推荐） my mother when Miss Pace looked for cookie （小甜饼） volunteers．Mom's chocolate chips were well-known，and I knew they'd be popular with my classmates．But two o'clock passed，and there was no sign of her．Most of the other mothers had already come and gone，dropping off their sweet offerings （礼物）．

　　The three o'clock bell soon took me away from my thoughts ad I took my book bag from my desk．

　　I decided I would slam （摔） the front door，and refuse to return her hug．But when I arrived，she wasn't at home．I was lying face-down on my bed upstairs when I heard her come through the front door．"Robbie，"she called out a bit urgently （急切地）．"Where are you？"I could then hear her rushing anxiously from room to room，wondering where I could be．I remained silent．

　　Coming through the door，she said："I'm so sorry，honey，"she said．"I just forgot．I got busy and forgot．"Then my mother did something completely unexpected．Sh began to laugh!How could she laugh at a time like this？I rolled over and faced her，ready to let her see my anger．But my mother wasn't laughing at all．She was crying．"I let you down．I let my little boy down．"I was moved by her tears．I tried to remember her kind words from times past when I'd skinned knees or cut myself，times when she knew just the right thing to say．"It's okay，Mom．We didn't even need those cookies．There was plenty of stuff to eat．Don't cry．It's all right．Really．"

　　We didn't say another word．We just held each other．When we came to the point where I would usually pull away （离开），I decided that，this time，I could hold on，perhaps，just a little bit longer．

　　31．As a child the author volunteered his mother be