One
Good Thing on Top of Another
By LISA
POLLAK
Baltimore Sun Staff
At 7,
Nyasha Dixon wanted a room of her own. Sharing a bedroom
with her 6-year-old brother and 4-year-old sister was getting
on her nerves. You'd feel the same way if someone popped
the head off your Little Mermaid doll, scribbled on your
kitten stickers and threw your stuffed dinosaur out the
window in a rain shower.
A big
sister can only take so much.
Lots of kids draw pictures of houses. Nyasha, the
oldest of four, drew houses with initials in the windows,
always marking one room as hers. She longed for a place where
she could lock the door, hide her toys and talk to her stuffed
animals with no one pestering her.
One day
earlier this fall, Nyasha went grocery shopping with her
mother. The store was holding an Oreo cookie-stacking contest.
"Do you want to try?" asked the lady at the Oreo table.
While her mother shopped, Nyasha built a chocolate skyscraper
so high that when her mother returned, the Oreo lady was
raving: "Your daughter did so well!"
They didn't
think much of it. But a few weeks later, a letter arrived,
announcing that the Baltimore second-grader was one of 10
finalists in her age group in the National Oreo Stacking
Championships. She'd earned a free trip to Florida and a
chance to win a $20,000 savings bond.
Enough
money, she figure, for a big house with you know what.
The competition
took place last week. The first contestant was another local
stacker: 7-year-old Ian Bembenek of Ellicott City. Ian,
using the five-at-a-time stacking method recommended by
his father, calmly used his allotted 30 seconds to build
a structurally sound, 22-Oreo edifice.
Twenty-two
Oreos!
One kid
after another attempted to better Ian's score. But after
nine contestants, no one had.
The 10th,
and final, contestant was Nyasha.
"Ready,
steady, stack!" yelled the judge.
The 30-second
clock started ticking. Nyasha laid a two-Oreo foundation,
and built from there, stacking and stacking until the cream-filled
tower rose past her chin. Past her mouth. Past her nose.
It wobbled and leaned, but she held it steady.
Then,
when time was up, Nyasha removed her hands.
The tower
collapsed.
Ian Bembenek
was declared the National Oreo Stacking Champion and awarded
the $20,000 savings bond.
For Nyasha,
there was sadness, followed by consolation: a trip to Disney
World with her siblings. But four kids under 8 and one parent
is no easy trip, and her mother feels sure that were it
not for Nyasha's help -- Please, Nyasha, hold the baby;
Please, Nyasha, take your brother to the bathroom --
someone surely would have been left at the Magic Kingdom.
When she
got home, Nyasha had a conversation with her stuffed animals.
"How did
you do in the contest?" they asked.
"Fine,"
said Nyasha.
"I'm glad,"
they said. "How many did you stack?"
"A very
big stack, but then it just curved and fell and I only had
three Oreos left standing."
"Well,
that's all right," said the stuffed animals. "At least you
tried your best."
What made
this conversation special wasn't that the animals answered
back; they usually do. It was that it took place in a room
in her home that used to be an office. With a little furniture
shuffling, the office was easily converted into what her
mother had decided in Florida was a much-deserved bedroom
for Nyasha.
That,
as they say, is the way the cookie crumbles. When she repeated
this tale the other night, Nyasha shut her door, spread
every doll she owned on the bed and ate Oreos dipped in
milk, just the way she likes them. Out her bedroom window
she could see the moon was only a sliver. But some day,
she knew, it would be as round asÖyou know what.
Reprinted
with permission from the Baltimore Sun.