This fist cookie jar used to be difficult for me to be comfortable with. I was raised with the second type. A crockery cooky container with character (ooooh! Alliteration!!!). When I was married I was given many things, duplicates of many things, man things that were NOT a cookie jar. When our eldest was about 4, I asked for a cookie jar. The plastic container was brought home to me. I remember thinking I wanted to cry! It was incredibly practical and held a lot of cookies. It was also much less expensive than a fancy decorative thing. The kids loved it, they could tell in a glance whether or not they could have a cookie. They almost always asked and I almost always said yes. It’s never been broken, it sits well on a counter, it was a good investment.
I now have the cookie jar I grew up with. It sits high on a shelf, cookie-less, overlooking my kitchen and my ‘new’ cookie jar. I filled the container today. Or overfilled it! I do like being able to put about 6 dozen normal sized cookies inside. Jon noticed it was a bit full and said he’d fix it so the lid would fit better. He did. A few hours later, there is now about an inch of head space for the remaining treats. What a blessing to have memories of cookies past and present. What an infinite blessing to have cookies, a place to put them, and a kid to enjoy them!