first, put the chocolate chips on the top of the stove because you know that if they are not in some visual eyesore space in the kitchen you will forget to make them and then you would have completely ruined the first grade encouragement shoe box project.
second, tell hubby that dinner is set out and he just needs to throw it in the oven at a certain temperature to have it ready by the time you return home from picking up the meister.
third, return home to a heated meal and a partially melted bag of chocolate chips that were not moved from the stove top when the oven was turned on because somehow the giant yellow bag full of chocolate was not noticeable just sitting there on a hot stove.
fourth, breath and recoup. there are enough not melted ones to make the necessary amount for 1st grade.
fifth, send father off to church and be alone in the house with Christmas music blaring, singing, dancing and children babbling and now try to make cookies.
fifth, get half way through and realize that 1/2 cup was really a 3/4 cup and your recipe is now completely off.
sixth, triple the recipe to get the correct ratio.
seventh, realize you are out of vanilla and now, since your neighbor won't answer your texts, you have to pack everyone in the car and buy vanilla instead of putting the dancing babbling kids to bed because of course it's bed time. and the store doesn't sell your favorite brand. 1st grade wont' know the difference.
eighth, throw the kids in pj's and put them to bed and return exhausted to the kitchen to finish cookies that have to be done and wrapped by 8am. remember you have a triple batch and there is little chance of saran wrapping these bad boys before 10.
nine, fiddle about getting the flavor correct because the batch is so huge and then bake and bake and clean the mess of the first floor that you call home.
tenth, finish baking and cooling, wrap, head to the couch and stare mindlessly at the tv.
calamity jane cookies. the norm at our house.
No comments:
Post a Comment